Shaping Clark: The Michele Thompson Story
by Michiri
Summary: [Sequel to Shaping Superman: The Story of Caitlin O'Conner Read that first!]Caitlin O’Conner helped his superhero side mature, but Clark’s “human” side still was lacking. He needed a companion without secrets, a mature friend his own age.
1. Chapter 1: New Beginning

This story was inspired by a story written by one of my friends, her penname is Nerca Beyul. She helped me write it, since I'm fairly new at writing fanfics. Please read her story, "Shaping Superman: The Story of Caitlin O'Conner" before this one, if you haven't already. This story makes too many references to that story and picks up about a week after that one ends, so you will not only be reading spoilers, but also will be very confused. I do not claim to own any of the characters, not Caitlin, who is, well, Caitlin's, or any of the original Smallville characters. Michele and family members who are mentioned here are mine. Ask permission if you wish to use them, and please don't steal them. Anyway, on with the story.

* * *

**Chapter One: New Beginning**

"_Hey," Michele greeted her as Caitlin set foot on the veranda._

"_Hey," Caitlin returned, taking a chair beside Michele. "Why are you sitting out here?"_

"_I was waiting for you. I knew you'd be coming around sometime around now, and my family just got back from church, so I thought I'd wait it out here."_

"_Oh."_

_Michele looked over at the slightly younger, and wiser teen, wondering what was going on in her mind. It seemed important, like she was struggling with what to say. She looked away, toward the truck with Clark waiting. I can wait. Whatever she has to say has to be really meaningful, otherwise she wouldn't be so thoughtful, she thought._

_Eventually, however, Michele's patience ran out._

"_Well, did you have something to say?" she asked softly._

"_Yes," Caitlin said, chuckling. "I have so much to say, so much to give to you that I don't know where to start, or how to say it. Let's try it nice and easy." She took a deep breath. "First, I guess I should start with the obvious: thanks so much for all you've done. Now before you go down-playing your part and all, you know and I know that you've done things that require my thanks. You've been sticking to my side through thick and thin for these past few months, especially since learning my secret, and especially in that whole incident with Clark." Reflexively, she threw a glance at the parked truck and its dark-haired occupant. "Thanks for that."_

"_You're welcome," Michele said with a smile. "And now, thanks to you. You not only taught me how to be a better journalist, but you helped make me fit in Smallville. You cleaned out a nice little niche here for me, and I want to thank you for that."_

"_You're welcome too," Caitlin said. "Because really it was nothing." She paused to flash a smile that then faded to weighted importance. "And speaking of that all, I have some serious advice for you."_

_Michele looked at her intently, knowing this was the important part. "Go ahead."_

"_Alright, I had my own 'little niche' of a part in Smallville that I made for myself over the past six months," she said slowly. "And I made for myself a place in Clark's heart and life." She paused, trying to gather her words._

"_And…?" Michele asked._

"_And I wanted to tell you that you can take my place on the Torch, and I want you to stay close to Clark as a friend and all but…" She hesitated. "But I have to warn you, don't try and take my place."_

_Michele looked at her oddly, cocking her head slightly to the side. "Why would I ever try to do that?"_

"_Well, you were my protégé of sorts, trained to fill my slot," Caitlin said. "Oh, no, no, no!" she corrected. "This isn't personal at all, Michele. It's just that I've seen things on the horizon of the future. Someone else is going to come along and fill and wipe out my little piece by filling it better than even I ever could. Clark's got some really big meeting coming up, and I'm not sure I want you caught in the middle to get hurt."_

_Michele nodded, understanding._

"_And another thing, 'Chele." Caitlin stood. "I want you to look after Clark when I'm gone. He's got a good heart, but I think he's a little too naïve. Watch out for him, please."_

"_I will," promised Michele._

"_You've been a good friend," Caitlin said, smiling faintly but sincerely. "Thanks. Bye, for now. I'll see you sometime in the future."_

_Frowning at the meaning, Michele just said, "Bye, Caitlin." I wonder what she meant by that, she wondered._

hr

It's been a week since she left. A whole week without Caitlin. Michele missed her a lot, even though she'd spent only a little time with the other blonde. Clark was seriously depressed. Chloe was mildly saddened at not having her great writing skill, but wasn't particularly unhappy, because she still had Michele. Not too many other teenagers had had much contact with her. For a week, Caitlin's words practically haunted Michele. "Watch out for Clark." And yet, she'd not spoken to him once. She and Clark weren't really close. The only thing she knew they had in common was Caitlin.

It was time to help the poor guy. Someone had to yank Clark out of this depression, and Michele had been charged with watching out for him. It's kind of sad when not even Lana could cheer him up. Maybe another person who missed Caitlin and was close to her would help.

"Hey, Clark," she said, stopping next to his locker after school one day.

"Oh, hi, Michele." His face remained emotionless. _Ah_, she thought sarcastically, _there's his glowing personality._

"You've seemed a bit down lately. I miss her too, you know."

"Yeah." He looked around. "Look, I have to get home… My parents get worried." His eyes shifted.

"Well, I can walk home with you. We could talk on the way. It's not healthy to be so sad."

"Yeah," he laughed. "That's all I've heard for a week. My parents, Chloe, Lana… Everyone."

"They didn't know her as well as we did." She smiled. "They didn't really know Caitlin. She was special, different." Michele laughed at how special she knew Caitlin really was. At the same time, Clark smiled a little. _She doesn't know how special, _he thought.

They left the building. "Everyone needs a friend, Clark. I'll be sticking around for a while. You can talk to me. Of course, friendship goes both ways. If you want a friend, you have to be a friend. So. You want to talk about Caitlin, or am I going straight home?"

"I'll talk. And you're right, you know, everyone does need a friend. That's part of the reason I miss Caitlin. I could tell her what I couldn't tell anyone else. We both had some weird secrets, so that's one reason we were close, I guess."

"Yeah. I understand that. We were close because we're both writers. Sometimes writing is like a secret, though we're all hoping it becomes public knowledge, sort of the opposite of secrets."

"I guess…" There was the gate to the Kent farm.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow at school," she said, slowly walking away.

Clark thought for a moment. "Hey, why don't you stay a while? I wasn't done talking," he grinned.

"Sure," she shook her head. _Mission complete, _she thought. _Clark is happy again._

"Here just go up the stairs to the loft. It's sort of my place."

"Your… place?"

"My thinking place. I'll be right back."

"Okay," she said, sinking into a comfy old chair.

Clark rushed into the kitchen to see his parents looking at him oddly.

"What?" he asked.

His mother answered first. "One, you're late, and two, you're smiling, something you haven't done in a week or more."

"Mainly, why are you late?" Johnathon asked.

"Johnathon. Clark, you haven't been this happy since Caitlin left. Why the sudden change?"

"Uh, well, I'm late because I was walking with someone, and we were talking about Caitlin. We were both close to her and miss her. And I'm smiling because she said something funny, and I left her in the loft, and said I'd be right back, so…"

They both picked up on the "she" as soon as it left his mouth. This time, Johnathon spoke first. "Clark, who's 'she'?"

"She's just another person who was friends with Caitlin, okay? She's pretty new. She moved here while Caitlin was here, and she works on the Torch. That's all I know. Now, can I go back so we can keep talking?"

Martha sighed. "Sure. Maybe sometime you can ask her to stay for dinner."

"I guess, some other time." He rushed out.

"Sorry that took so long… My parents wanted to talk to me."

"No problem. It's nice up here."

"Yeah, I love it. It's really peaceful and it shows a great sunset…"

"I'll bet. You wanted to talk about Caitlin?"

"Yeah. I feel like she left too soon. Like we didn't learn enough from her. It seems strange to everyone else, because she's younger."

"That's because they didn't know Caitlin. She had more in her mind that most people could ever hope to know. And she's still learning."

"She seemed more like teacher than classmate most the time."

They went back and forth, naming her qualities, why she was such a good friend, who she was to them, without revealing any secrets. They laughed.

"But do you know what she was most of all?" Michele asked him, serious.

When he looked thoughtful, she began, "She really was a true--" and they said "friend" simultaneously.

"I still can't believe she's gone," Clark said.

"She's not, not really."

Clark looked confused.

"Hasn't anyone told you? No one you care about really leaves you, in death or moving away. A piece of them remains within you forever… In your heart."

"That reminds me of something Caitlin would say… I think she said something similar to me once. I think more than her sarcasm rubbed off on us."

"Maybe me, but I was already pretty wise. You, on the other hand…" She grinned. "You should have learned better. Never set yourself up like that. Eventually, your naïve trusting nature is gonna cost you!" She laughed. "But, for now, it'll just be embarrassing."

"More of her rubbed off on you than I thought. Or maybe you've always been this… What's the word?"

Michele smiled and began to spout words. "Incorrigible? Irritating? Mean-spirited? Annoying?"

"All of the above?"

They both burst out laughing.

Michele looked out the open window. "Oh no! The sun's setting! My parents expected me home hours ago. I'm dead. It's official."

"Wow… I guess we lost track of time."

"Uh, I'd say. Look, I'd better get going. If you don't see me at school tomorrow, worry, because I'm probably in a coffin or on my way to one."

"Funny. Good luck."

"See you tomorrow, Clark!" She called from the ground.

hr

As she ran off, Martha Kent looked out the window to see a blond girl with sparkling green eyes running toward the setting sun, and silently thanked her for cheering up her son.

hr

When she got home, the first thing Michele did was start up her laptop. She got online and was happy to see her friend was online, too. She double-clicked her name and started typing.

Michele: hey cait!

Caitlin: hey michele! whats up?

Michele: i just talked to clark today… he's been really depressed since you left.

Caitlin: really? What did you talk about?

Michele: you, actually. It made him smile again. And he actually laughed:D

Caitlin: I'm glad you could cheer him up. Have you told him that you know my secret?

Michele: no, why? I thought that was why they're called secrets…

Caitlin: well… he knows, too. you two were the only friends in smallville who knew. oh, and the art teacher knew too, of course…

Michele: clark did mention secrets and about that was how you two were so close… wait a minute. is clark…?

Caitlin: is clark what?

Michele: CAITLIN! clark's got powers, too, doesn't he?

Caitlin: it's not me you should be asking, 'chele. i'm not at liberty to tell the secrets others have entrusted me with.

Michele: great. which means I have to get him to tell me himself. Well, I've got some homework to do and stuff… i just got home from his house…

Caitlin: you were at his house:o

Michele: not exactly. more like his barn loft.

Caitlin: that's even more important! he trusts you a lot already, 'chele.

Michele: hmm. maybe it's the whole friends with you thing.

Caitlin: or maybe its more. i want you to be careful, though. i don't want either of you to get hurt…

Michele: i do not feel like that toward him!

Caitlin: but how does he feel?

Michele: i don't know… but he didn't act like he felt that way, either. i think he lied to me about something…

Caitlin: how do you know?

Michele: his eyes. they shifted. he said he needed to get home because his parents get worried…

Caitlin: i think you'll figure out why they get worried when you two talk again… you better get to dinner. isn't it already 7 there?

Michele: YIPES! yeah, i better. talk to you tomorrow, cait.

Caitlin: bye.

Michele logged offline and put her computer in sleep mode, then ran into the kitchen and looked in the microwave. _Looks like it's TV dinner night for me. _The plate in the microwave was almost empty. Looked like the family wanted extras. She pulled it out, trashed what was left, and put in a TV dinner, then started it for 5 minutes. _Thank goodness for Stouffer's, _she thought.

hr

On the Kent farm, Clark was pushing away from the table to do his own homework, when the phone rang. "I'll get it!" He yelled. Both his parents had finished eating a couple of hours ago, but he'd stayed in the loft, thinking.

"Hello?" He answered.

"Oh, sure… One week, and it's a questioning hello?"

"Caitlin!"

"You sound oddly surprised. We talk every night, remember?"

"Uh, right…"

"You haven't gotten another friend, have you? Replaced me?"

"No! Of course not. Me and another friend of yours were just talking… Wait a minute. She already talked to you, didn't she?"

"Now, what would give you that idea?"

"You tricked me. And you're hundreds of miles away."

"It's a gift. Speaking of gifts… Are you going to tell Michele?"

"Why should I?"

"It seems that you trust her, even if you don't realize it. You didn't really know her at all before today, and you spent hours in your loft with her? That's your special place."

"I guess you're right… But we both knew you. That makes it different."

"Different how? I'm just a mutual friend who moved away recently."

"I don't know!"

"Well, you should be more open-minded. She had a hunch… Based on subtle clues you dropped unknowingly. Like your lying habit… Do you know your tell-tale mark of lying?"

"What do you mean?"

"Some people's noses flare… They fidget… It's how a discerning eye can tell when a person lies, even without powers like mine. Michele's smarter than the rest of Smallville, Clark. When you lie, your eyes shift."

"Really? And what do you mean by saying she's smarter?"

"Clark. Must I spell it out for you? She's as different as I was, but not supernaturally, more like emotionally in tune. She's perceptive, clever, and people, even you Clark, need someone near you who you can talk to. Michele's easy to talk to, but…"

"But what?"

"I don't want either of you getting hurt again. I know you'll be okay, but I'm not sure about her. I never looked into her future. I didn't feel the need."

"I do _not_ feel like that toward her. She's just a friend, and I'll keep the memory of the disaster with you as a reminder."

"Good. Clark, I have to go now, but I want you to remember to remain open-minded to the world, like you were when I was there, even if I'm not anymore."

"Alright. Talk to you tomorrow."

"Bye, Smallville."

Clark heard a dial tone, remembering the day a week ago that he'd heard those words, still unsure if she'd meant him or the town that day. At least this time, he knew it was him.


	2. Chapter 2: Spilling the Beans

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the Smallville characters, or Caitlin O'Conner.**

* * *

****Chapter Two: Spilling the Beans**

The next day at school, Clark was asking Michele back to the loft to talk again.

"So, Michele, Do you want to walk home with me again and talk some more?"

"Sure, why not? I have to call my mom first though." She looked at the clock. "And talk to Chloe… I've got a little bit to do at the Torch first… Speaking of which, don't you owe Chloe another article? She seemed a little upset last week about you not getting her one."

"Oh, right. I, uh, forgot. Again."

"It's okay. I mean, you were feeling a little down."

"Yeah. Let's go over there."

As they walked to the Torch office, they talked and laughed--this time at Chloe's habits. Late night editing that frazzled your circuits, her hyperness at 3 a.m., her "wall of weird".

"Michele! Clark! Boy, am I glad to see you. Clark, good thing you're not so down anymore, because you owe me at least one article, and Michele… Where's the story on…" Chloe stopped a moment, trailing off to tilt her head incredulously, her mouth falling slightly open at seeing the two of them together.

"Uh, Chloe?" Michele said, waving a hand over her face.

She shook her head. "Um, since when are you two buddies of the year?"

"Well, I was sort of sick of seeing Clark here looking like a zombie, so I asked him if he wanted to talk about Caitlin yesterday, and…" Michele shrugged her shoulders.

"And that lifted me back to my usual self," he finished.

"Oh-kay… Anyway, you still owe me an article and story."

Michele pulled a sheet of paper from her backpack. "Here you are, typed, edited, blah, blah, just the way you like it. Happy?"

Clark blushed. "Uh, I forgot?"

"Again? Clark. Get your priorities straight! Just try to get me the paper tomorrow morning, please!"

"I'll try."

"Thanks."

"Well, I've got to get home. See you tomorrow, Chlo!" Clark called as he and Michele walked down the hall, laughing and talking again.

As they walked off, Chloe began to wonder how Michele was fitting into Clark's life… And what their relationship was.

* * *

When they got to the loft, Michele stopped laughing.

"Clark. I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah?" He smiled, wondering what had made her so serious all of a sudden.

"Yesterday, I told you friends don't keep secrets, right?"

"Yeah, I remember that." His smile began to fade.

"Caitlin and I were friends. We shared secrets."

Clark blinked, it beginning to dawn on him.

"And I get the feeling that you shared secrets with her too. She said you know. I know. And I think you have a secret, too."

"Well, everyone has secrets, Michele," Clark replied, getting nervous.

"Not everyone has a secret like Caitlin's, and I have a hunch that you do."

Clark stared at the floor.

"Clark. You have a gift, don't you? Powers normal people don't have?"

"Why would you think that?"

"I'm not an idiot, Clark. I can add up the stories, subtle hints that no one else in town notices. Not to mention, Caitlin told me who she was, what she could do. That helped."

"Fine. I do have powers. More physical than Caitlin's mental powers, though."

"That's what I thought. You aren't smart enough to have those mental powers, anyway. No offense, farm boy."

"None taken. Caitlin is wiser."

"Yeah. So, Clark. We're friends now, because your secret is out. I won't tell, don't worry. I promise I don't have any super-human powers. My only talent is writing, okay? Oh, and I sing a little. My big secret." She smiled. "I know I haven't been here very long, but I have to get going. I want to actually eat tonight. I had to dig up some frozen dinner last night. Remember, Clark, you can talk to me about anything, I'll be here for you."

"I understand. I need to get inside anyway. See you tomorrow."

* * *

Michele left and Clark went into the house. When he got inside, he found his parents in the living room.

"Mom, Dad? I've got something to tell you."

"What is it?" Martha asked.

"Uh, someone else knows."

"About your powers?" Johnathon asked, suddenly more alert and much less relaxed.

"Yeah."

"You told that girl from yesterday, didn't you?" Martha asked quietly.

"Not exactly. She half-guessed. She's smarter than the rest of Smallville, Mom."

"I saw her when she left yesterday. If you trust her, then it's okay."

"I trust her." He looked up at his parents.

"Well, if you trust her, there's not much we can do about it," Johnathon said.

Clark nodded.

* * *

At her house, Michele ate dinner and got online. She checked her buddy list, and there was Caitlin.

Michele: hey caitlin!

Caitlin: hey michele! did you talk to clark?

Michele: yeah. fairly easily. he didn't seem too happy at first, but once i got it out of him, he looked okay.

Caitlin: he's just afraid of the world knowing. i mean, with his powers, and the world's unscrupulousness... i think we all know what they'd try.

Michele: i understand that.

Caitlin: i knew you would. i hate to cut this short, but the dukes are coming on in a few minutes...

Michele: its okay. i can smell my dinner, anyway. talk to you tomorrow!

Caitlin gets up from her computer, and heads to the phone. She dials a long-distance number, and waits for someone to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Clark!"

"Oh, hey Caitlin! You're calling early. What's the occasion?"

"Nothing, really. I hear Michele knows now."

"She can be pretty smart, you were right."

"Of course I was. Did you ever doubt it? By the way, have your parents met her yet?"

"No, but my mom saw her out the window yesterday. They did want me to invite her to dinner sometime..."

"Maybe you could introduce them and let her meet Lex, too, sometime soon."

"I thought you said to be wary of Lex."

"Yes, I did, but 'Know thy enemy', Clark."

"Sure... I'll ask her to stay tomorrow, okay? And after dinner, I can take her to Lex's."

"Good. I've got to go now, but I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Clark put the phone back on the hook, then picked it back up to dial a local number.

"Michele?" He asked as he heard her voice say, "Hello?".

"Oh, Clark! Hey. Did you want something?"

"Actually, yes. My parents wanted to know if you could come for dinner here tomorrow."

"Sure. I've got to go now, but I'll see you tomorrow at school."

"Great. Bye."

* * *

After she hung up, Michele went back to dinner and wondered what exactly was going to happen tomorrow. 


	3. Chapter 3: Meeting the Family

**Chapter 3: Meeting the Family... And Friends**

Michele saw Clark's truck pull up in front of her house. She walked down to it, and opened the door, saying, "Hey, Clark. Thanks for picking me up."

"No problem."

They started talking as he drove. "So, you said after dinner, I get to meet the infamous Lex Luthor?"

"Yeah. I guess even news of the Luthors reach Tennessee?"

"Clark, that news reaches the Netherlands."

"Oh, right..."

When they reached the Kent farm, they both got out and walked to the house. Michele hung back, making sure Clark went inside first. When she did walk inside, she felt immediately at home. It looked so... comfy there.

Martha looked in from the kitchen. "Oh, hi Clark. And you must be Michele. Glad to meet you. Come on in, dinner's on the table."

"Thanks, Mrs. Kent."

As she walked in, she saw the man who must be Johnathon Kent. "Hi," she said quietly. He looked a little foreboding at the moment, so she thought it best to be quiet.

Clark finally noticed the tense and potentially awkward silence and coughed.

"Dad, this is Michele. She works on the Torch and was a friend of Caitlin's. She's fairly new in town... The Thompsons only moved in a couple of months ago."

"Hello, Michele. Welcome to Smallville, but I feel I'm a bit late in my welcome," he said. He smiled, trying to relax the atmosphere.

"It still counts. I don't know too many people in town, but I know Clark, Chloe, Lana... And Caitlin moved, so..."

"Speaking of Caitlin, I want to thank you for cheering Clark up. I was beginning to worry about him," Martha said.

"It wasn't any trouble, really. I promised Caitlin I'd look after him... And found out he really needs it."

Johnathon coughed. "So, how'd you get Clark to tell you about...?"

"Well, I mostly figured it out myself. I already knew someone with special powers, and I'd heard the stories about the amazing Clark Kent--the tornado, his witnessing so much over the years... Not to mention, I'm pretty smart. The only thing I had to get him to say is I was right, which I usually am."

Johnathon nodded, finally approving of the girl. The tension in the cozy kitchen lessened indefinitely. Michele smiled, knowing she'd gained the approval of a very stubborn man.

Everyone sat down and Michele looked down at her plate. It looked great, home-fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and she could smell an apple pie. She turned around and saw one of the famous Kent pies on the counter. Clark caught her gaze and grinned.

"Oh, wow," she told Mrs. Kent, "this is just like my mom would make! And I'm glad I'll be able to finally taste one of your famous pies. I've heard Lana talk about them at the Talon."

Martha smiled. "Well, if you want, you could take one home. Think of it as my extremely late house-warming gift."

"I'm sure my family, especially my little brother, will love."

As they ate, they continued chatting. It left Michele feel very at home and much less nervous. "So, you have a younger brother?" Clark asked.

"Yeah, you met him once. The blond boy who gave me the cell phone that day?"

"Oh, right. I forgot."

Michele lifted her eyebrows and her glasses slid down her eyes a bit. "You seem to have gotten a horrible memory lately... First the article, my brother... What next?"

Clark went back to his food, wondering if her comment was born of being around Caitlin or her natural personality.

After dinner and a delicious apple pie, Clark and Michele got back into the truck. "On to the Luthor mansion, then, right?" Clark said, turning the key. "By the way... Why don't you have a license?"

"Well, I do... But my dad drives the truck to work--he makes some plastic parts for cars in Metropolis--and my mom's van is new, so I don't touch it. I'm supposed to be getting a car for my 17th birthday, though."

"Oh, really? When's your birthday?"

"Right around the end of school."

"So, it'll be a birthday and a senior year present?"

"You could say that. Hey, is that it?" She asked, pointing to the very large and old-looking house.

"Yeah. Lex said his dad shipped it from Europe..."

"I'd believe it. My family used to own a castle in Ireland, I think. My mom found it online, the Rose Clan or something."

"Really?" He was clearly impressed.

"Amazing, isn't it? See, my mom made a family tree, right after her dad died, and there was a Rose on that. I'm not sure how she found it, but there was a website all for the 'clan'. It had pictures of this huge castle, and a lot of information about it. I barely believed it when she showed it to me."

"You don't seem much of the royal girl," he said, grinning.

"I can't remember why my family is out of Ireland, if that's what you're asking, Clark. But we have no current ties to that castle, so you can stop teasing about a 'royal girl' living in this tiny town."

"So, what was it like growing up in Tennessee?"

"I didn't. I only lived there 6 years... I was born and raised in the north, Indiana to be exact. And, let me tell you, I lived an hour away from Indy, and our town was no tiny little blink on a map. Where we moved after that was completely dead. There was nothing there at all. There used to be a bowling alley, a couple of theaters... But now, it's nothing. You had to drive almost an hour to have some fun. At least Smallville has the Talon!"

"Yeah, but we haven't for a while. And it used to be a theater, and then a few years ago, Lana turned it into what it is today."

"Clark, I have a feeling that tomorrow we're going to have to help you with something. Something important."

"Really?" He seemed interested. "What?"

"Your emotions. Everyone knows you like Lana. I know you liked Caitlin. And some people, including me, know about Chloe. Would you like to add any other girls to the list?"

He blushed. "No."

Michele laughed. "I didn't mean to embarrass you, I'm sorry. But some things need sorted out. But let's save that for tomorrow. It's time for me to meet the world-renowned Lex Luthor."

"Uh, sure." They walked in the large doors, and Michele felt very small and timid. Clark felt her hand go a bit weaker. "You okay?" He asked, turning around. All he saw was that her eyes had gotten very big and her mouth had dropped a bit. He smiled, then tugged a bit on her arm, getting her to walk.

"I know it's huge, but you get used to it."

"Oh?" She laughed. "Sure you do."

They walked in the room, hearing beautiful piano music being played. Hmm, Michele thought, sounds like Mr. Luthor either has a great sound system and a liking for classical CDs, or he's practically a virtuoso. As they entered the room, she was vaguely surprised to see the last guess was right.

She studied him, while he still played, oblivious to their presence. His bald head shone in the light of the room, his eyes were concentrated on the sheet of music in front of him, and his fingers flew over the keys of the grand piano. The way he was absorbed in his music, she could see he was very passionate and remembered how that unchecked passion had gotten him in trouble during his years in Metropolis.

Clark cleared his throat, to make Lex realize they were there, and both Lex and Michele jumped. Lex turned around and smiled.

"Clark. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah... I've been a bit down. You know, my friend moved away?"

"I'm sorry, I forgot. And who is this, then?"

"This is Michele. Her family moved here not long ago, and we've recently became acquainted. She wanted to meet you." He shrugged. "So I offered to take her over here."

"Actually, it was Clark's idea. But it is interesting to finally meet the famous Lex Luthor. So, are all the rumors true, or do they get that twisted going all the way south to Tennessee?"

"It depends on what you hear, and who told who. But I'm afraid most of them have a root of truth."

"Had a feeling. I heard you playing." She tilted her head curiously. "What was that, Mozart?"

"Actually, yes. His final piece--"

"The Death Mass, isn't it?"

"Yes," Lex took a long look at the girl. She obviously knew music, and she looked very clever. The kind of person who could often find out a lot about somebody or something. "I take it you've taken some music classes?"

"Many, actually. Five years as a child with a music class, then a year of violin, two years elementary school choir, then three years later, I took a general music course and was in my school's women's choir. Last year, I was in both the advanced mixed choir and women's choir again. Oh, and then there was sixth grade band, when I played flute. Unfortunately, I had to quit. Just something to do with a chronic illness that used to limit me."

Lex seemed mildly impressed, and Clark was amazed. _So, _he thought, _not only does she write for the Torch, writes a few poems on her own, "sings a little", as she said, but she also definitely knows her music._

"A chronic illness?" Lex asked, remembering his own youth's... problems. Though his were more mental than physical, it still interested him.

"Yes. I had asthma, but it's under control." She shrugged. "I can run, jump, sing, play instruments, whatever. It used to be a problem, though, from about when I was two, up until about 6 years ago."

"So, other than music, what do you like to do?" Lex asked, intrigued with Clark's new friend.

"Well, I'm a bit of a writer. Not articles like Chloe and, when he remembers, Clark here, but mostly a few poems." She blushed a bit, indicating her poems were her real passion, her obvious love of music paling deeply in comparison.

"Poetry, really? It seems you have a knack for the fine arts. Are you much with drawing or painting?"

"Not really. My mom says I have vision, but I just can't get it to paper. I can see the artistic things, understand them, but when it comes to creating them..." She smiled. "I'm an artistic klutz."

_So, _Lexthought, _the girl obviously has brains, artistic vision, a writer's mind, an "artist's soul", as they say, and is obviously very upbeat. I may have use for her..._

"Sorry to go so soon, Lex, but I've got to get home and write an article for Chloe. And so does Clark," she said, shooting a glance at him.

"No problem. Maybe I'll see you in town sometime."

"Who knows?" She smiled, then dragged Clark out of the room, to only stop and look at him pleadingly. "I, uh, don't know which way is out."

Clark shook his head and started to the doors.

As he heard their footsteps go down the hall, Lex wondered what he could do with her obvious multitude of talents, and, more seriously, wondered what she was to Clark.

Michele waved to Clark from the veranda in front of her house, then turned around and went in. After finishing up her homework, she turned on her laptop and began checking her email. Half-way through her messages from friends, her messenger alerted her that Caitlin was online.

Michele: hey!

Caitlin: hey, how was dinner?

Michele: i knew you had something to do with it! clark's not really bright enough to think of me having dinner with the kents and meeting lex all in 1 night!

Caitlin: seems you have him pegged! and, yes, it was my genius idea, especially the lex part.

Michele: i can tell you're itching to hear about that part in particular.

Caitlin: i ain't itching to do nothing.

Michele: sure, whatever. he asked me questions about me, which led to more questions. nothing big. just hobbies, interests, a little about my asthma, when i mentioned it.

Caitlin: well... there might have been something behind it, but it sounds genuine. i'll tell you the same i've told clark: be wary of lex luthor.

Michele: all right. i'll keep both me and clark safe. he may be superhuman, but, boy, he's no genius. but they say einstein was both forgetful, and sometimes a bit stupid. maybe one day he'll end up being a real genius, instead of the subject of our sarcasm... but i highly doubt it!

Caitlin: lol who knows, really? i mean, i can "see the future", but someone great once said we control our own destinies, didn't they?

Michele: good point. i don't know who said that... maybe it's a quote straight from the great cait!

Caitlin: there's your poeticness again, chele. you're a regular longsfellow.

Michele: in the land of the great big waters...

Caitlin: haha. you have a pretty good memory, unless you've got a copy with you. i'm pretty sure those really are the opening lines.

Michele: i think i do have a copy... somewhere in this desk... somewhere...

Caitlin: then it is lost forever. chele, you look organized, you have a completely organized locker, even, but your room... just not going there.

Michele: oh, very funny. just don't quit your day job, or your secret identity to go into comedy, kay?

Caitlin: i think i rubbed off more on you than i thought...

Michele: not really. i'm from the north, remember? inbred sarcasm.

Caitlin: and i pushed it to the bubbling, bouncing surface... hey, i have to get off now... jack-jack's sick, and...

Michele: i understand! go tend to the baby, i'd better go too. til tomorrow.

Caitlin: of course.

Caitlin has signed out.

After she'd fed Jack-Jack, as her family called the baby, she went to answer the ringing phone.

"Hello?"

"Only gone just under 2 weeks, and you've already forgotten me."

"Clark! How dare you turn my own words against me!"

"Touchy, touchy. I only got back a while ago from Lex's... I did as you bidded." There was a hint of humor in Clark's somber voice on that last bit.

"Sure you did. So how'd it go?"

"Lex asked her a few questions... They talked about music, poems, just stuff like that. Did you know she's had almost as much music classes as English?"

"What? How many years of music is that?"

"I can't remember but it's probably close to ten, maybe more. She said she had some different music courses in a few years. She said she was in two choirs just last year! Plus a year each of flute and violin... I can't remember how many years of just plain music classes she said."

"I had no idea, Clark. But... that's interesting. She told me she'd been in choir and used to play an instrument or two, but wow. Ten plus years of music classes is a lot for a 16 year old girl."

"Caitlin. You're 15, you skipped a grade, plus you have major mental abilities, I'm 16 and I'm an alien with super powers. I think all three of us are amazing."

"Yes, Clark, but she doesn't have powers like ours. And she's not only a music genius, but she's a great poet, and her memory is... amazing. We were talking a minute ago and she recited the first line of Hiawatha for me, just by me mentioning Longsfellow."

"I'm assuming he wrote it?"

"Clark, you need literary training. Badly. What exactly are they teaching you in that high school?"

"To endure torture?"

"Oh, very funny," she said sarcastically. "Look, I've got to go now... But I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Fine. By the way, planning on letting me know why to 'be wary' of Lex yet?"

"Sorry. Confidential information, between me and myself." And then the only thing in Clark's ear was the dial tone.


	4. Chapter 4: Mixed Feelings

**Chapter 4: Mixed Feelings**

Michele came walking up the stairs to the loft, where Clark was reading a book.

"Hey," she said. He sat up quickly, like she'd spooked him. "I told you earlier I'd be coming, remember? To talk about Lana and Chloe?"

"Right. And you mentioned it the other night, in the truck."

"So, are you gonna talk or do I have to pry it out of you?"

"Well... I like Lana. I always have. But, Chloe used to like me, and then I liked her... I felt horrible when she gave me the just friends line."

"And, to that statement, I must say one word. Duh. I knew that last week, even last month. Here's something: if you knew you would be stranded for a long time, on, say, a deserted island, and you could only take one person, who would you take?"

"I don't know..." He thought a minute. First, of Lana in island wear. But, then, he thought, that would do no good. Then he thought of Chloe's brains and how she'd probably be the best choice for survival. Then there was Caitlin, who had brains, but he wouldn't have to try to hide his secret. Still, it would be hard to spend a long amount of time with her, with how their personalities tended to rub. None of them would be a very wise choice, because with the two girls he'd grown up with, he'd have to hide his powers all the time. And with Caitlin, they'd be at each others throats after a week. Who else? "I don't know at all. None of the choices are right. I'd have to hide from Lana and especially Chloe, and if Caitlin was a choice, then we'd be clawing at each other after a few days."

"Good point. Maybe I asked the wrong way... How about this question: between Lana and Chloe, who could you never live without? I mean, a few years down the road, can you picture yourself with Lana, or with Chloe?"

He closed his eyes, and first imagined a life with Chloe, since they'd had a bit of a thing once... And all he could think about was the fact that she would know his secret, and how she'd react. Since this was Chloe, it was easy to think about how she'd act...

_"You're telling me, all these years of seeing my wall, you never told me, knowing how--"_

He stopped thinking about it, then, obvious that was the wrong choice. Then he imagined telling Lana, Lana who had mildly prodded at him, asking him to tell her many times.

_"Clark, I always knew you were keeping something from me... But I never guessed it would be as big as supernatural powers. Does Chloe know?"_

_"No. Only you, me, and my family."_

_"Oh. I'm glad you finally told me, Clark." She smiled. "It means a lot to me..."_

"I thought about it," he told Michele, "and I thought how they'd take my secret. Lana's my choice."

"Which sparks a question in my mind. Why did you never tell the 'love of your life'?"

"I wanted to. So many times. I'm not sure why I never told her, but if I had to tell one person, I'd tell her."

"Okay, but now how do you feel about Chloe?"

"Well, I do still like her... But I'm beginning to realize she just isn't for me. So, I am genuinely happy with friend status."

"And what are you thinking about Lana? Friend or otherwise?"

"I'm not too sure. I like having her as a friend, but sometimes I feel I want something more... I feel like something's holding me back."

"Probably because she isn't as close to you as you want. If you want to be close, you may have to tell her your secret."

"I'm not ready for that yet. I feel like she'd understand, but..."

"But she might reject it, and therefore reject you, or she'll blame you for her parent's death?"

"Something like that."

"Well, I'm glad that's sorted out. I've got to go now, but I heard in town that Lex was wanting to talk to you... Thought I'd let you know."

"Thanks. I'll go and see him... Want a ride home, then?"

"Depends. Are we speeding or driving?"

Clark thought a moment. "How about a sprint?"

"Sure! I've never went faster than a bullet before, and somehow I think you are."

"You're right. I've dodged bullets before. Multiple times."

"Great. You can drop me off at home before going to the mansion, then."

And as she took his hand, they were off, speeding into the horizon as the sun set behind them.

"Thanks for the... ride, Clark. It was fun!" She said, smiling as he went toward the mansion, running her fingers through her very windblown hair.

As he entered the room, Clark saw Lex at his desk, looking at the screen of the laptop on his desk.

"I heard you wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes. I wanted to ask you something that occured to me last night when I met Michele."

"What?"

"Exactly how do you feel about her?"

"She's a good friend."

"You sure about that? That she's only a friend in your eyes?" Lex's eyes searched his friend's face.

"I... don't really know. I haven't thought about it." He thought about the deserted island question. He couldn't take Lana or Chloe--for fear of his secret, and Caitlin and he clashed too much... But Michele understood, she knew his secret, she had the smarts to survive... And he doesn't have to hide from her. It was like a light dawning on him, he thought.

Or was it just a flash of lightning before a storm?


	5. Chapter 5:Never Say What You Didnt Mean

_I know the last couple of chapters have been a little short, and I apologize. But this chapter has a lot of interesting actions and conversations that I hope will make up for the lack of size._

**Chapter 5: Never Say What You Didn't Mean**

Right as the bell rang, Michele gathered her bags and headed to the Torch office. Clark had told her to meet him there, even though Chloe wouldn't be there... Frankly, she was a bit confused why a fellow reporter wanted to talk to her in the newspaper office when their editor went home, for once.

"Clark?" She called out as she shut the door behind her.

"Right here." He stepped out from the shadows. He looked... different. Like he had something important to say, or... She didn't know what, but obviously something had happened between dropping her off at home last night and coming to school this morning... Lex, maybe? Oh, dear Lord, was Caitlin's "be wary" coming to light?

"You, uh, wanted to talk to me?" She asked nervously, messing with her jacket button, a nervous habit.

"Yeah." He stepped closer and she could see how dark his eyes were. "Last night, I thought a lot about that deserted island question."

"Really?" She relaxed. It was about Chloe or Lana. "What did you decide on?"

"Well, there are traits of them that I see in someone else, pretty close to me, too, that I didn't think of when you asked me. Lana understands me. Chloe has the brains and talent. Caitlin knew my secret, and understood that part of me."

"I... guess so." She couldn't see where this was going.

"Well, there's another female friend in my life. She understands me, is smart and talented, and not only knows my secret, but sees it as a part of me."

"Your mom?"

He laughed, almost bitterly. She couldn't trace the source of his bitterness, no matter how much she wondered. "No. Someone my age."

"Remind me why you're telling me and not her."

"You said I could talk to you about anything, right?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Well, I wanted to tell you first... That I am telling her. Right now."

She raised her eyebrows, a little confused at first, then the realization hitting her like the proverbial sack of bricks. "M-me?" Her eyes widened in shock as he walked closer. She slid away. "Clark, you're a great friend."

"Oh, so here's the part they all say. 'But I don't want to ruin that'." His laugh was definitely bitter now.

"Well, not what I had in mind, but if it works..."

"It doesn't."

Uh oh, she thought. "Um, how about the simple no?"

"Not sounding very sure, are you?"

"I--I'm very sure. Just mildly scared." She slipped away again, but only barely before he would have held her. She was sure, wasn't she? Yes. Then she remembered Clark could catch her before she could blink. She couldn't stop him like Caitlin, and she'd never seen him act like this, or heard of him doing this, with Chloe or Lana.

"Why are you scared? I'm only talking to you. Only acting on my feelings, my passions."

"Well, they're wrong." Maybe, a voice not her own whispered in her head. What in the world was that? And then she blinked to find herself wrapped in an embrace, being hugged by the resident superhero. And she knew she couldn't push him away physically, so maybe... She let herself go weak, like they teach you to do right before you fall, so you don't hurt yourself.

And he scooped up her body like it was a child's or... Well, more like a bride and groom crossing the threshold. Where had that come from? What is up with me? I do not like Clark like this.

He put her down, softly, on a couch. The office had a couch? she asked herself. When she tried to get up, she noticed Clark leaning down as she sat up, and she knew where it would head if that happened. Unfortunately, Michele was human... And Clark had speed that was faster than the human eye. Before another thought went through her spinning head, he'd kissed her.

Her mouth almost responded before she regained rational thought. Boy, I envy Caitlin. She knew how to deal with this. I don't want to hurt Clark. I want to hlep him. How can this help? But... how can telling him I don't care help? And if I remain cold, he'll think me a wretched witch. There's no way out of this without hurting him. None at all.

She pulled back, slowly, hoping not to hurt him too much. "Clark."

His dark eyes looked at her green ones clearly. She knew hers were probably a very deep, dark green right now, with confusion--on why this change in his thought of their relationship, how to handle this, everything. "Yeah?" His voice sounded... different. Sort of darker, deeper.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked him, quietly. Softly. Almost timid. Like she used to be, before she'd come to that convention in Metropolis. Before she'd met Caitlin and Clark. Before, before. Before Clark started acting weird. So many befores, how many afters?

"I know this seems sudden. I do. But to me, it makes perfect sense. You must think I'm some kissing maniac, but in my mind..."

"It makes sense to you because I know your secret, because I'm more... emotional than Caitlin. I'm bound to be, after all. I love music and poetry. I'm practically a born romantic because of that."

"See? You understand me perfectly."

"Yes. But that doesn't mean we should start something. I know you'll hate it, but please. Just friends."

"Fine. I won't force you into anything. I can't believe I was so--"

"Don't you dare say that, Clark Kent! You are not stupid. Frustrated, maybe. You're probably a little crazy--everyone is. Everyone's entitled to a little insanity."

"Alright, then how about this? I can't believe I actually tried to force you into a kiss. I shouldn't have done that."

"Now, that's right. You shouldn't have, but you have. Maybe I shouldn't have said you could talk to me about everything, considering how you felt about Caitlin. But, you did do something right that I've never heard of you doing before."

His eyebrows raised in question.

"You, as you so aptly put it, acted on your passions. Clark, life is nothing if you don't act on your passions. Listen to your poet friend, okay? I have to get home now. I'm tired, and Chloe's not here, so I don't plan on staying. I try not to stay when she's here, why stay when she's not?"

"Good point," he said, laughing. She gave him a quick, friendly hug, and an upbeat "See you later!", even as her heart turned to stony ice, knowing she'd hurt him, exactly as Caitlin had. And Chloe. And Lana. Poor Clark. Then she decided she better try very hard not to bump into him in the near future... Give him time to cool off. And, she added, for me to start thinking straight again. Boy, was that ever completely confusing!


	6. Chapter 6: Late Night Editing

**Chapter 6: Late Night Editing**

One week. Michele had managed to avoid him for a whole week after the incident in the empty office. Just as she started walking outside to find a ride home with maybe Lana or someone else, someone tapped her on the shoulder. She sighed, thinking it was Clark. Well, maybe a week was enough...

"I hope a week was enough for you to cool down, Cla--" As she turned around, she noticed it was Chloe. Her cheeks burned. "Uh, hi, Chloe."

"Hi, yourself. And why, may I ask, would Clark need to 'cool down'?"

"No reason. What did you want?" She asked, changing the subject, and regretting it immediately.

"That's why I came to find you in the first place." Her bright smile was almost too much, even for the perpetually happy Michele. "I want some help with editting tonight."

"Tonight? I don't know, Chloe..."

"Please?" The other blonde pleaded with her. "I really need help."

She sighed. "Fine. I just have to call my mom on my cell."

She called her mom, explaining she had to help Chloe with the paper, and hung up, trudging to the newspaper office.

"Chloe, I don't understand why we have to do this on Friday nights. The next edition doesn't come out until Monday."

"We do it tonight, so we sleep in Saturday."

"Whatever. I'll keep the coffee steady," she said, resigning to her inevitable post. Sure enough, half the night, she was going back and forth to the Talon, taking small breaks to chat with Lana. The first time she stopped by, she explained the situation.

"Hey, Michele. Didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, well, Chloe caught me before I left school." She shrugged. "Another late-night adventure of caffeine, I'm afraid. Can you please somehow stay open a while tonight? I'm dead if she doesn't have coffee."

"I understand. It's no problem. Come back whenever to get more. I've seen her without her coffee. Not pretty."

The next time she was at the Talon, it was after-hours, but Lana was still there. While the new pot brewed, they talked some more. This time, a bit about Clark.

"Lana," she began slowly, "how bad was it when Clark first... tried to get closer to you?"

"Well, it was really weird, since I mostly thought of him as a friend only."

"Mostly?"

"Don't worry about it. Why'd you ask about that, anyway?"

She laughed nervously. "Well, I've become good friends with Clark over the last few weeks... But there was a snag last week."

"A snag? Let me guess. His secret?"

"No, that doesn't bother me. He, uh..." She blushed, and at Lana's questioning look, tried to continue, softly. "Well, he sort of... tried to... um, Clark... kissed me."

"He what?" Lana's eyes had bugged a bit, and her jaw even dropped.

"He kissed me. In the Torch office, the one day Chloe wasn't there."

"I... I can't believe it." Lana seemed shocked.

"Neither did I. First he sort of hugged me. Then he kissed me. It really freaked me out. He said some stuff. I talked some reason into him, but I've been trying to avoid him all week."

"I was wondering why you two hadn't been near each other. Before, it was like him and Caitlin all over again."

"Well, now I know how she felt. Problem is, I'm not as strong as she was. I feel so bad. I know I hurt him."

"You couldn't help it. Not if you don't feel that way about him."

"The funny thing was, back in the office, I wasn't sure of anything. Of course, that could be because I had a farm boy trying to kiss me, then kissing me."

"Yeah, being chased a bit will mess with your head. I'm glad you didn't end up doing anything that would hurt him even more."

"Me, too. I just don't know what to do. I'm afraid he'll try something again."

"Well, relationships are risky, even if you make it stay just friends."

"You of all people should know that, Lana." The coffee was done. "I'd better take this to Chloe."

"Sure," she said, clearly confused about the statement.

"Here's the next batch, Chloe. Drink up." Michele seemed very unenthusiastic about it.

"Uh-huh," came the reply, as Chloe was deeply engrossed with the editing of the front page article.

At around 2 am, Chloe finally told Michele she could go home. She sleepily went to her room and fell in to bed.

Her brother woke her up at ten 'til ten, so she was almost finished with her morning routine when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" She called out. When she opened the door, still brushing her hair, she saw Clark. She also saw the look on his face--a very familiar look. It was the exact same look Caitlin had told her about. It was Clark's I'm-sorry,-please-forgive-me look. _He should have this look patented. He uses it enough,_ she thought.

"Michele..."

She held out her hand. "No. Stop right there. I don't really feel like hearing this. We both know what you'll say. 'I'm so sorry, it was a mistake, won't happen again,' right? Well, now that that's over, can you drive me over to the Talon? I spent all night in the Torch office with Chloe. Again. Anyway, I want coffee, so start the car."

Clark opened his mouth, then closed it, then repeated the action a few times.

"Okay, Mr. Fish, I need caffeine. Now. So, truck. You. Start. Now."

He obeyed, obviously still very dumbstruck.

At the Talon, they both had a cup of coffee, like they like it, and Michele had a little bit of a snacky breakfast--a cinnamon roll. She was in a much better mood, and her and Clark were at ease again. When Lana came to get their cups and Michele's plate, she smiled at how they were once again back to normal.

_Now, if only I could figure out the real meaning of what she said last night... Sometimes she's almost as cryptic as Caitlin was..._ Lana thought as she left their table.

A/N: I'm so sorry this is so late! My finals are next week (block scheduling), and just last night I was in a choir concert. Yes, the bits about Michele's past was all me, real information. Anyway, sorry about this being late, and the next few chapters may be a little slow, what with the actual finals, holidays, family time, and major holiday stress. Wish me luck:D


	7. Chapter 7: Poetry in Motion

**Chapter 7: Poetry in Motion**

Clark was almost falling asleep in his history class—again. But he noticed Michele was furiously scribbling on something. He used to X-ray vision to see.

"_Reflections_

_Sometimes I wonder_

_If you see_

_Yourself as I see you._

_If you really understand_

_How much you mean._

_I never meant to hurt you,_

_It was an honest mistake._

_But I'll never wonder_

_Why I feel this way._"

It was all he could do to not let his jaw drop, reading this. She'd said she wrote poetry, much better than her articles and stories. But this… this was deep. And obviously about someone she cared about deeply… But he was the only person she spent any time with. Did that mean…? _I have to talk to her. After class,_ he thought, shocked at what he'd just realized. Good thing this was their last class. He could talk to her walking home today.

"Michele?" He said, as they began walking down the dirt path.

"Clark?" She replied.

"I, uh, saw you writing during history today."

"It's called taking notes. Helps people pass classes, tests, finals, you know, education."

"It wasn't on the Cold War."

"Oh. That. Right." She blushed. "How much did you see?"

"All of it. X-ray vision, remember?"

"Sometimes having friends with super-powers is so annoying."

"Tell me about it. Now, would you mind explaining anything about that poem?"

"Oh no. You think--. Oh no. It's not like that. Clark, you don't get it, do you?"

"Get what? What is there to get? You reject me, avoid me, then write a poem about me. It makes perfect sense."

"See? You've got it wrong. It wasn't about you." She held her head high and walked a bit faster.

He matched her pace. "I don't see you spending much time with too many other guys."

She turned around to face him. "Look, you. You have no right to be jealous. We are friends. I thought I made that clear to you that that is all that we are. No more, no less."

"Then explain the poem, please!"

"Fine, genius. Writing is perception. That poem was not about you. It was my perception of how I thought you felt about me. A poet's greatest gift is perception. It gives them a wider span of possibilities and writing subjects, ideas, inspiration. Do you get it now?"

"Of course I do! I wrote a poem without picking up a pencil, because you channeled my spirit, O fortune teller!"

She glared at him. "You really don't get it, do you? Let's try once more. Perception is a poet's best tool. It lets them write about what they haven't experienced themselves, and gives them a better look into the soul of the person they're writing for. This poem you saw, but shouldn't have," she said pointedly, "yes, it was personal. All my poems are personal. Like when you're lifting a tractor for your dad, or literally speeding off to school, those moments are personal for you. They make you special. You can choose not to use your powers--I'm sure there are plenty of people in town who have powers, but are scared to use them, or even admit they have them. You not only admit them, and use them, but use them to help people. Even when you use them for meager tasks, those moments are your poems."

Finally, a look of understanding dawned on his face.

"Good. You get it. Now, can you do me a favor and super-speed me the rest of the way home? I'm a bit tired. Trying to teach you is exhausting. I don't see how Caitlin did it. Oh, wait. She had super-powers. Right."

"Sure. Grab hold." He held out his hand, and she took it. As soon as she did, he sped off to her house and let her off and sped back home.

At her house, a still slightly irritated Michele turned on her laptop and was very happy to see her friend online. For the first time in more than a week, she could finally talk to her friend, who had absolutely no clue.

Michele: hey!

Caitlin: hey, haven't seen you in a while.

Michele: and, boy, has a lot happened. a lot of a lot.

Caitlin: oh no. what did he do this time?

Michele: he decided he liked me, for one. then I set him straight. then i had another edit-night with chlo, and just today, clark read one of my poems, which he thought was about him, but was really about me thru his eyes. i do not get how you did it all, super-human or no.

Caitlin: yeah, he's a handful, that's for sure. now, tell me more about this liked me part, plus the poem bit…

As she relayed the recent events to her friend, Michele realized how silly it all seemed now. And how dense Clark could truly be. Caitlin, though, as soon as they stopped talking, marched up to her phone and definitely gave Clark a very hard time. He was wincing every minute or so. And so ended everyone's not-quite-perfect day.

**A/N: All poetry, unless noted otherwise is written by me. The poem in this chapter was written especially for this story, so it is a special one, practically a fiction poem to me. Any true poet will understand my meaning. Anyway, I hope you like the chapter and the poem! Review, review, review! I cannot ask it of you enough!**


	8. Chapter 8: Girls United

**Chapter 8: Girls United**

"Hey, Michele!" A familiar voice called down the busy hall. Michele stopped, turned around, and smiled.

"Oh, hey, Lana! What's up?"

"Well, Chloe and I are planning on having a cup of coffee at the Talon tonight, and we were wondering if you'd like to join us."

"Sure! It'd be great to talk to some more level-headed people for a change…" She threw a glance over her shoulder at the retreating Clark. "And to be able to see Chloe and caffeine together and not be seriously scared."

"I know what you mean, on both counts. See you tonight at around 7. Talon's closing early, because of the 'big game'."

"Oh, right! I forgot about that." She blushed. "I never really was much of a sports person. Let's just say my last high school was just as jock-oriented as this one, and yet I went to one football game a year, and that was it."

"Yikes." Lana nodded. "I'll make sure that doesn't get around, otherwise you'd be in minor trouble. Or major. Depends on who hears."

"Thanks! I've got to go now, but I'll see you at the Talon."

As she walked home, she thought about her relationships here in Smallville. _I'm friends with the strong, secretive farmboy who wears enough plaid to make a fashion editor have a heart attack, the crazy, almost slightly creepy high school paper editor with the definitely creepy wall of weird, and, of course, the popular ex-cheerleader who has a thing for Clark and vice versa. Too bad she can't get her feelings in order… I helped Clark. I don't think I can help her. For one thing, that'd be major matchmaking, and for another thing, I feel like she… doesn't need me. Clark needed me, like he needed Caitlin. Lana may need friends, but she doesn't need a "teacher". I guess that's what I am to Clark… Contrary to how he felt, or maybe even feels, after that day last week. _

That entire evening, she was completely wrapped up in thought. Something about this whole "I can't help Lana" thing reminded her vaguely of something, like a book she loved to read when she was younger and probably still had lying around… somewhere.

"That's it!" She said very loudly in her room, where she had been tapping her fingers on her desk, waiting for her computer to start up. She'd just been thinking _I'll be old and wrinkly when this thing is done. _And that was when the book title popped into her head. A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L'Engle.

In the book, Meg Murry's little brother Charles Wallace can… sort of read his sister and mother's minds. When Meg asks him if he can "read" his brothers, the twins, he says he probably could, but they don't need him. _I could help Lana, but she doesn't need it, or me. Clark's like Meg. He's… unsure of himself. Of his "human" self. He gets his superpowers, thanks to the Kents and Caitlin, but his teenage high school student side sort of reminds me of how I felt as a freshman. Like he doesn't fit inside his skin right. Plus, he seems to fall for all the eligible people in sight. I used to be like that, too!_

That night at seven, Michele walked up to the Talon door and knocked. The door was locked, so she waited for Lana or Chloe.

Chloe came around and opened the door for the other blonde. "Hey, Michele. Lana told me you said you were coming." When they got to the small table and sat down, Lana asked Michele what she wanted. She was behind the counter, obviously getting drinks for them.

"Um, the usual, I guess."

Once they all had their java and were sitting down, Chloe turned toward Michele. "So," she said, her face inquisitive, "everyone knows you and Clark as close as Caitlin and he were, but the other week, what happened?"

"Is this off the record, Miss Journalist of the Year?"

"Don't worry about that."

"I just don't want my personal life spread all over the Torch. Besides, if I were you I'd take the compliment. Anyway, I'm surprised you didn't ask Lana… She's the one that helped me realize to forgive the idiot."

"I did. She didn't tell me she gave you advice. She just said, 'if she wants to tell you, ask her yourself,' and wouldn't say anything more. Which, in my opinion, was not very nice of her. Considering my curious nature, of course."

Michele had to laugh at that. "Thanks for that, Lana. I'm glad I can trust you. And Chloe… I told Lana while she was getting coffee that Friday you dragged me into the Torch office. I would have told you, if you weren't so absorbed in your editing, and absorbing so much caffeine."

"So, tell me now." After she related the entire story, including Lana's advice, Chloe said, "You're kidding me. I mean, Clark hits on yet another close friend, and then Lana gave Clark's current best friend relationship advice on Clark?"

At this point, Lana seemed to get a little annoyed at everyone talking about her as if she and Clark had some kind of horrible history… or future.

"What is it with you people? Clark and I—"

The two blondes turned their head swiftly to their friend. "If you were about to say 'are just friends', don't go there," Michele said. "I'm not blind, you're my friend, and everyone knows Clark and I are friends. You may not say anything, but the rest of the world knows that Clark's had a crush on you for, oh, ever. Sure, he and Chloe had a thing once, but do you know why she broke up with him? Because he went and rescued you. I'm sorry to bring up bad memories, Chloe, but someone needs to talk some sense into them both." Chloe nodded. Lana almost seemed shocked. There was this petite blonde writer telling her what she'd refused to believe was true.

"Poor Clark," she continued. "When we first became friends, he was unsure of how he felt toward you both. I gave him a couple of short mental tests. At first he felt torn. Then he chose you. And then, a few days later… He sort of… chose me. Now, I'm definitely not saying you two are a match made in heaven, or anywhere else, except maybe your own minds. I'm also not saying that you two 'need to get it out of your systems'. I'm just saying you need to face this. You guys aren't kids, I know that you both know your problems won't go away if you pretend they don't exist. Not only is that fairly stupid, that's not like you. I heard about that picture you found of a man with your mother. He also told me that when Lex told you that you may not want to know, you faced your fears about it. You still asked him to find that man. The question now is, will you still face your fears about something possibly more personal than a mystery person in an old, forgotten picture?"

Both Chloe and Lana seemed mildly shocked at this. Sure, they'd known she wasn't some little shy, quiet girl, but they'd never guessed she'd be this… blunt. Chloe knew from her writing that she had the potential. Lana had seen a little of how she could and would speak up. And boy did she ever.

After getting over their initial shock, Chloe looked at Michele and thought, _Well, I always wanted for someone to shock some sense into them, _she looked over at Lana for a moment,_ and now I got my wish._

Lana opened her mouth, as if to speak, then promptly closed it again. She attempted this again.

"You two have a lot in common. Clark does the fish thing a lot, too."

This time her mouth stayed open. "Can we please talk about something else now? I'm sick of Clark-talk. Now," Michele said, "Chloe… You've seemed upbeat. Any weirdness or guys lurking around?"

And the rest of the night, they talked about all kinds of things going around Smallville High, from the sports to just the silly things, like how one of their teachers sounded just like Elmer Fudd.

By the end of it all, they were all laughing and saying they'd have to do this again—maybe a sleepover or something. Since Michele had no way home this late, Chloe drove her over. "Thanks," she said. "My mom hates to drive in the dark, and my dad is in Metropolis today. He's got another job offer. Strange, though. I wonder what Luthor Corp. could want with a plastic injection mold supervisor."

"You'd be surprised who the Luthors give jobs to. I'll see you tomorrow at school! Remember, I need that article on…"

"The band concert. I know, I know… I went, I listened, I saw, and you know what? It'll be cinch to write it. I'll get it to you tomorrow morning. Bye."


	9. Chapter 9: Missing Caitlin

**A/N: So sorry about the long absence! School piled up once break was over, and my brother got a new net-only game, and this is my first time online in a week or two. Future chapters will be slow, too, I'm afraid. I've joined my school musical, and practices... Plus homework, brother's game... I'll write whenever possible, promise!**

**Chapter 9: Missing Caitlin**

Michele sighed. Earlier that week, she'd been really happy. Positively bubbly, as usual. But today… she was definitely sad. Clark noticed, finally, as they were walking to his house after school.

"Hey, you okay?"

"No."

"Er, would you like to… talk about it?"

"I miss Caitlin."

"Oh. Me too."

"I wish there was some way to see her."

Something slowly began to dawn on him. "There might just be."

"Clark? Did you just get an idea?"

"Do super-speed powers sound familiar?"

"You can…?"

"Yeah."

She looked at him levelly. "And yet it never occurred to you to mention this before?"

"Well…"

She rolled her eyes. "Just get us to Florida, okay?"

A few seconds later, they stood outside a house that seemed, even from their point of view, bustling with the activity they knew was the O'Conner family lifestyle.

"Clark, I want you to stay out of view, okay? Just for a minute, I promise."

He looked at her, confused about what must be her idea. "Sure."

She walked up to the door and knocked. Caitlin herself answered.

Michele just grinned as she saw her friend's eyes widen and then her mouth drop open and then smile one of the biggest Caitlin smiles she'd ever seen.

"Hey, Caitlin. Just thought I'd drop by," she said nonchalantly.

"Michele! What are you doing here? Kansas is a long way away! How on earth did you get here? Why? Wha—"

At that point, Michele was already giving a signal to Clark to come on out. He stepped from behind an old golf cart lying on the lawn.

Then Caitlin understood how her two friends had gotten to Yulee. "I can't believe you did this! Why?"

"We missed you! Why else would we take a five-second run, or in my case, ride, here?"

Caitlin looked about to laugh and hugged her. Then she hugged Clark. And promptly hit him on the top of the head with the stack of papers she was holding. "This better not have been your idea, Clark! How," _smack_ "many times,"_ smack_ "have I told you _not_ to—"

"Abuse my powers, I know," he finished, rubbing the top of his head. "You know, that begins to sting after a few smacks."

"Good!"

"Now, Caitlin," Michele said, "don't be mad at him. Although, it actually was his idea. Anyway, he did it because I said I missed you." She looked at her friend with sad, puppy-dog eyes. "And isn't it wonderful to you that he not only did it for a friend," then she grinned mischievously, "but he actually used his brain and had an idea!"

They both laughed, while Clark tried his hardest to frown and not crack any hint of a smile, but it was no use. He was seeing two of his best friends—they had to be his best friends, they were they only people outside his family and Pete who knew his secret—laughing and talking and being happy again. He was especially glad to see Michele's behavior changing so drastically. She'd seemed so sad earlier… _Woah, _he thought._ Can't go back into that thought territory._ He'd almost thought of Michele as, well, more than just a friend. Again. He really had to stop doing that to himself.

He finally walked up to the two girls and said, "So, Caitlin, you going to show Michele around? And I have a feeling that you didn't show me all the sights during Winter Break."

For the rest of the day, Caitlin showed her friends around, and brought along her other friends that had visited her in Smallville and who Clark had met at the bonfire.

By the end of the day, with Clark and Michele speeding back home, everyone felt so much better. And Clark was happy just to see Michele happy, and just happy being happy. It's practically a law of nature—happiness leads to joy.


	10. Chapter 10: Talented

Chapter 10: Talented

Just as Clark was coming into school Monday morning, a poster caught his eye. "Smallville High Talent Show," was emblazoned across the top of the yellow poster-board and in red lettering. It went on to say the deadline for sign ups was that Thursday, and auditions were on Friday after school. After he thought a minute, he remembered something.

"_Last year, I was in both the advanced mixed choir and women's choir again."_

When he got into homeroom, he started talking to Michele. "Michele, will you do me a favor?"

"I… guess. What is it?"

"Well, there's going to be a talent show. I remembered you said you had been in those choirs before moving… Maybe you could…?"

"What! No way. Choir is in a group. Not a solo! I… oh, no fair! Fine. I'll compete." She looked unhappily at Clark, before adding, "On one condition. You teach me how to make people cave like that! Sheesh, I didn't know that guys could do the puppy-dog look. Not like that!"

"So, you'll do it?"

She let out a big breath. "Sure."

"Great! Auditions are on Friday, and deadline for forms is Thursday. The show will be Saturday night."

"Fine."

That night, Michele sat in her room, laptop turned off, lying on her bed, thinking about the song she was going to sing.

"Stupid Clark," she muttered, going through songs in her head, mentally throwing them all into a trash pile. Then, her mind settled on a favorite of hers. "That's it!"

She jumped up, turned on her computer, saying little useless things to try to make it hurry up. "C'mon, c'mon!" Once her desktop image finally appeared, she double-clicked on start and My Music. Once she had found her song, she clicked it and played it. "Yes," she said, just before singing along.

The next day, she turned in her form, and saw all the others under it, and read the one right under it quickly when no one was looking. "Lana Lang…" she whispered. "No way…" She read on, looking at her talent.

When she got home, she burned her song onto a disc, vocals turned so low you couldn't hear them.

Three o'clock the next afternoon, the many students wanting an audition sat down in the auditorium. When one of the teachers stood at the front of the stage, the entire room got quiet.

"We'll go in the order we have forms. When I call your name, please come up and perform your talent. We do have a CD player if your act needs one." Michele reached automatically for her bag. "Microphones are set up on stage. First off, we have…"

One by one, each of the auditions were gone through. Some were funny, there was one skit, and some were serious. Michele was one of about 10 singers.

The teacher told them all, at the end, that the finalist list was to be posted Monday morning. Performers had the chance to skip the class before the talent show to ready themselves.

After a weekend of talking with Clark about the act and auditions and numerous other things, she looked up at the white paper that was the finalist list.

"Lang… Sullivan… Thompson!" She turned around to run to homeroom, and bumped, literately, right into Clark. "I, uh, made it," she said.

"Great! See, I told you so," he replied, smiling smugly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she muttered. "I think you'll like the song… Anyway, see you then. It's during second period, and I get to go home during the period before, to prepare."

"Lucky," he said, walking off to class.

"Please remember to tell the teacher for me, Clark!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said, mimicking her.

She ran home, took a shower, and opened her closet. After looking around, she found her one pair of nice, black pants. Then she smiled, remembering the school trip her freshman year that had led to buying them. Looking through her shirts, she frowned, until she found the perfect shirt. It was a three-quarter light pastel blue shirt, with a navy "jacket". She grabbed her CD, attempted to make her hair look nice. The finalist paper had said to dress nicely. Unfortunately, the most she could get out of her hair was straight and sweet-looking.

She asked her mom if she could drive the van back, and she said it was alright. She got into the school just five minutes before she needed to be backstage, but she went anyway.

"Here's my CD," she said, handing it to the obvious DJ of the talent show. "It's track six. The name's Michele Thompson."

"Sure," he said, slipping it next to 3 other CDs.

After a few minutes, she heard a voice on stage. It was about to begin. She looked out through a side where she could see the audience but they couldn't see her.

She saw a ton of people she knew, including Clark. Someone was slipping into the back row. Someone familiar, someone follically-challenged, as Caitlin had said to her once. Someone named Lex Luthor.

First up was a funny skit. One of the main characters was Chloe, which made it all the funnier. The other character was a girl Michele had seen hanging out in the Torch office sometimes, Mara Whitman. She was a shy girl with long, light blonde hair usually pulled back into a ponytail.

On the stage was a "body" wrapped in tarp. Chloe was the first to speak. "Schwartz, FBI."

Another "actor" dressed as a guard replied to her, "Okay."

Chloe put away the ID and strolled over to "Johnson" (Mara) and the body.

(The rest of this is in script form, to save time. Just remember. Chloe is Schwartz, and Johnson is Mara.)

Schwartz: Johnson, this had better be good. You dragged me away from a perfectly good dinner.

Johnson: It is, sir.

Schwartz: Johnson?

Johnson: Yes, sir?

Schwartz: Why aren't you in uniform?

Johnson: Um, I'm having it dry-cleaned, sir.

Schwartz: Very good. And Johnson?

Johnson: Yes, sir?

Schwartz: It's ma'am.

Johnson: Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.

Schwartz: (scoffs) Never mind. (bends down, lifts the tarp from the face of the body and examines her/him) What's this, another murder case?

Johnson: Yes, sir.

Schwartz: Johnson, what was the murder weapon?

Johnson: (uneasily) It was a lollipop, sir.

(Schwartz stands and glares at Johnson)

Schwartz: It was a what?

Johnson: A lollipop, sir. (pause, Schwartz is still glaring) Uh… (Johnson taps temple) In the right temple to be exact.

(Schwartz is still glaring)

Johnson: (gestures) And on the left leg there is evidence of a Snickers—possibly a Mars Bar.

Schwartz: Johnson?

Johnson: Yes, sir?

Schwartz: You're fired.

Johnson: But sir, I have a contract! You can't fire me!

Schwartz: Then I'll just have to have you carted off to the loony bin.

Johnson: (quickly) Uh, I'm fired as of now. (walks quickly away)

(Guard comes running up and presents paper to Schwartz)

Guard: The autopsy report is in, ma'am.

(Schwartz reads the report)

Schwartz: (calling to departing Johnson) Johnson!

Johnson: Yes, sir?

Schwartz: You're re-hired.

Johnson: Thank you, sir.

Schwartz: And Johnson?

Johnson: Yes, sir?

Schwartz: It's ma'am!

Johnson: Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.

The audience laughed and clapped. Chloe took off her officious hat and took a bow, smiling. Mara kept her hat on and bowed, smiling as well, if much more timidly.

"Next up we have Lana Lang," the announcer on the stage said.

Lana walked out to the stage, wearing a white shirt and a black skirt with a hemline that sat just beneath her fingertips, which is the school test.

A country tune began as the spot light closed in on her, revealing her microphone.

"I don't want another heartbreak  
I don't need another turn to cry  
I don't want to learn the hard way  
Baby hello, oh no, goodbye  
But you got me like a rocket  
Shooting straight across the sky...

It's the way you love me  
It's a feeling like this--  
It's centrifugal motion  
It's perpetual bliss.  
It's that pivotal moment  
It's impossible  
This kiss, this kiss  
Unstoppable  
This kiss, this kiss

Cinderella said to Snow White  
How does love get so off course?  
All I wanted was a white knight  
With a good heart, soft touch, fast horse.  
Ride me off into the sunset  
Baby, I'm forever yours

It's the way you love me  
It's a feeling like this--  
It's centrifugal motion  
It's perpetual bliss.  
It's that pivotal moment  
It's unthinkable  
This kiss, this kiss  
Unsinkable  
This kiss, this kiss

You can kiss me in the moonlight  
On the rooftop under the sky  
You can kiss me with the windows open  
While the rain comes pouring inside  
Kiss me in sweet slow motion  
Let's let every thing slide  
You got me floating, you got me flying

It's the way you love me  
It's a feeling like this--  
It's centrifugal motion  
It's perpetual bliss.  
It's that pivotal moment  
It's subliminal  
This kiss, this kiss  
It's criminal  
This kiss, this kiss."

The audience clapped, and so did Michele, after a moment's shock. She couldn't believe that Lana had just sang a Faith Hill song. She had never guessed Lana was a "country gal".

Next there was a magic act, done by a smiling brunette with a sparkling outfit, and her boyfriend as her assistant. "Talk about a double standard," Michele muttered, remembering how traditionally, the sparkly uniform and smiling female was usually the assistant. "I'll bet Chloe would think that would be a good article…" She put a mental note to ask her about that.

After the act was over, everyone clapped once more, and this time the announcer spoke into the microphone, "We have another vocalist, Michele Thompson." Michele took a deep breath and walked onto stage, taking the microphone the announcer offered her. She nodded slightly, and heard the soft music start. She closed her eyes only a moment, then brought the microphone to her face.

"It's funny when you find yourself

Looking from the outside

I'm standing here

But all I want is to be over there

Why did I let myself believe

Miracles could happen?

'Cause now I have to pretend

That I don't really care

I thought you were my fairy tale

My dream when I'm not sleeping

A wish upon a star that's coming true

But everybody else could tell

That I confused my feelings with the truth

When there was me and you

I swore I knew the melody

That I heard you singing

And when you smiled

You made me feel

Like I could sing along

But then you went and changed the words

Now my heart is empty

I'm only left with used-to-be's

And once upon a song

I know you're not a fairy tale

And dreams are meant for sleeping

And wishes on a star

Just don't come true

'Cause now even I can tell

That I confused my feelings with the truth

Because I liked the view

When there was me and you

I can't believe that I could be so blind

It's like you were floating

While I was falling

And I didn't mind

Because I like the view

I thought you felt it too

When there was me and you," she finished singing, and the music drifted away.

She smiled and looked out to the audience to see Clark smiling, a surprised look on his face. She looked toward the back of the room to see the bald head that shined brightly even in the dim lights of the theater. He was smiling, and looking at her as if… like he had found some kind of answer. She didn't like it. It seemed cold and calculated. She shook the strange feeling and looked around the theater after she had exited back to the wings, and saw Lana looking about as surprised as she herself had felt when she'd heard the dark-haired girl perform. Chloe was smiling brightly, in her biggest and best Chloe-smile. Then, Michele got a shock. It looked as if Clark had taken the liberty to get a few more smacks, and had brought Caitlin to Kansas during either the ten-minute period the students had to get to the theater and get settled, or during first period.

Caitlin was grinning ear to ear and her dark, knowing eyes looked straight into Michele's green ones, and Michele was filled with the knowledge of how much her friend had liked her performance. Michele grinned right back, knowing her friend would get the unspoken message. _Thank you._

After a while, all finalists had performed. The speaker on stage announced that he held the envelope that the judges had given him.

"In third place is Mallory Pipkin and her assistant." The brunette stepped out grinning, and took her small trophy. "Second place goes Lana Lang for her rendition of Faith Hill's 'This Kiss'." Lana stepped out smiling to pick her slightly larger trophy. "Now, for the first place trophy, we have a tie! Chloe Sullivan and Mara Whitman have tied with Michele Thompson."

As the three girls approached the announcer, he dropped the microphone, and in a low voice, said to them, "There's an extra trophy. One can go to one of you, and the other can pick one up after the show. It was brought in case of a duet winning. Chloe, Mara, you don't mind only getting one?"

"Of course not," Chloe said quickly, and Mara nodded.

The announcer began to speak into the microphone once more. "We will award only one trophy here today. There is another for the second winner that they can pick up later today. The group has decided that the trophy awarded right now will go to…" He looked behind him to see the whispering of the two blonde writers, quietly arguing.

"You!"

"No, you take it. Mara and I will get it later. No problem."

"Girls," he said quietly, "have you made a decision?"

"Yes," Chloe said quickly. "We want Michele to take it now."

"Alright then." Into the microphone, he said, "Michele Thompson!"

As she smiled at her friends, and then again looked at Chloe, she, still smiling, said, "You can blame Clark for this. It's his fault."

After school that same day, Clark insisted that she come to his house for dinner, as celebration.

"Fine! Um, Clark? Just wondering… but how well exactly do you know Lex?"

"We've been friends since… 2000, I think. Why?"

"Well… He came to the performance, and right after I sang, it looked like he was… I don't know, measuring me up. It seemed really cold."

"You must have been imagining," he said, defending his friend, while wondering if Michele and Caitlin were right.

A/N: The skit that Chloe performed was written originally by my friend, the Noble French Fry. The song Michele sings is one I found on TV recently, and it's called "When There Was Me and You," by Vanessa Anne Hudgens. Lana's is, of course, "This Kiss," by Faith Hill. And none of these belong to me. Oh, and Mallory Pipkin? My character. All mine, as well as Michele and Mara. So, if you wish to use them, YOU MUST ASK ME FIRST!

Hope you liked, sorry about the long, long wait. This semester of sophomore year is killing me. Gotta hate block scheduling.


	11. Chapter 11: Just Friends

**Chapter 11: Just Friends**

It had seemed like forever since the talent show. That could possibly be because Michele knew the Spring Formal was coming up—soon. Time had slowly, and agonizingly, crept up on her. There was only one reason she was so nervous.

She still remembered what had happened at the winter dance, between Caitlin and Clark. That, added to the event almost everyone had forgotten about in the Torch office weeks ago, was enough to make Michele afraid. And it didn't particularly help that both she and Clark remained dateless.

She had been waiting hopefully for someone to just pop up and ask either one of them to be a date for the dance. It wasn't over until the fat lady sings, right? Well, an amply pudgy woman was letting go an aria. It was the day of the dance. Time was definitely up. The last bell of the day had rung, and Michele was packing up her backpack, slowly, knowing Clark was waiting for her, still at the doorway. She didn't even have to look up. She zipped up her bag and sighed, standing up. "Hi, Clark."

"You know… the dance is tonight."

"Yes, I'm perfectly aware of that. I was considering going, just as the rest of the school."

"With who?"

"Me, myself, and I."

"Sure. Mind if I tag along?"

She rolled her eyes. "You do remember the last dance you went to, right? And you do realize that if you try anything funny, you'll most likely get hurt physically and emotionally?"

"Yes. I just want to go as friends."

She sighed again, in defeat. "Why not? I need a ride anyway."

He nodded, smiling. After he left, she dejectedly began her way home.

When she got home, she looked in the mirror. Then she put on her dress, a light spring green satin dress with spaghetti straps and a hemline just below her knees. She went into her closet and dragged out the pair of heels she had bought the week before. The store she had gone to always offered to dye some shoes for free, to match dress colors. Going back to her mirror, she began to work on her hair. She luckily got it up into a simple and elegant bun. She added two green chopsticks.

She put on a little makeup and went outside to wait for Clark. Within a minute, he drove up in his dad's truck. "You look nice," he offered.

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare get any ideas. This is only for appearances. It is _formal_, remember?"

"I know, I know. I just said you looked nice. Sheesh."

Once they got to the dance, Michele got away as fast as she could and found Lana and Chloe talking. "Michele! You look great!" Chloe said right away. Lana smiled, thinking the same thing.

"No way. This is just because I had to dress up. I hate it… Not my style. I'm still more comfortable in my jeans and a t-shirt."

"Whatever's conducive to your creativity. That was a great idea for the double standard thing, by the way. Have you started it yet?"

"I talked to Mallory and Dan Henderson yesterday. I'm going to start writing this weekend."

"Perfect. I'd like to get it by Monday or Tuesday, if that's alright with you."

"That's fine! It should definitely be done by Tuesday."

"Now, enough about the Torch…"

Both Lana and Michele stared at their friend. "Did you just say what I think I heard? It can't be… I didn't just hear Chloe Sullivan say she wished to change the subject from the Torch?"

Chloe laughed. "Very funny. I meant it."

"Yeah, sure."

Right then, Clark showed up. "Hey, girls."

"Hey, Clark," Chloe said.

"Where's your date, Clark?"

"She's right there. Didn't she tell you?"

Michele just glared at him.

"C'mon, Michele, just one dance. Just for fun. It's not a slow song or anything."

"Fine." He was right, after all. Plenty of friends were dancing, including just groups of people.

But as soon as she began dancing, a slow song began, and Clark automatically went into slow dance mode. She raised an eyebrow. He pretended not to see.

She let him dance with her, but there was one problem with that. She had once read a silly old quote, "If you give a man an inch, he thinks he's a ruler."

_That definitely applies here,_ she thought, as soon as Clark leaned in closer, taking advantage of her closed eyes. She had no idea what was happening until she felt another pair of lips on top of her own. She pushed him away angrily. "Uh, uh, Clark!" She slapped him hard, then added a good kick in the shin. "I told you earlier, no funny stuff. I let you have one dance. You are my friend. But this… this is a total--! I can't believe you! You can stay, but I'm walking home. And don't you dare think that a little coffee on Saturday will change this. You messed around with the wrong girl this time."

She was furious, and ran all the way home, after taking off her horrible shoes. She went right up to her room, hurriedly took off her dress and put on her pajamas.

She turned on her computer, having to talk to Caitlin—the only person she seemed to be able to talk to right now.

Michele: hey caitlin…

Caitlin: hey michele… you okay?

Michele: no. I just came back from the dance. early.

Caitlin: okay… I'm probably going to hate myself for this, but… why?

Michele: take a wild guess.

Caitlin: hm. could it be a well-meaning farm boy with superpowers?

Michele: hit the nail on the head.

Caitlin: you didn't happen to… lose your temper?

Michele: maybe… how do you define loosing your temper? if yelling, slapping, kicking, and "you messed with the wrong girl"-ing counts, then… yes.

Caitlin: maybe he'll learn a lesson. although… i highly doubt it.

Michele spent the rest of the night IMing her friend, feeling better with every sent message. By the time she logged off, she was on the verge of forgiving Clark… in a few days, anyway.

When Clark finally got the confidence, and stupidity, to approach her again, it was almost a week later. "Uh, Michele…" It was strange to hear a guy of Clark's abilities sound so… timid.

"Yeah?" She put a little hurt into her tone, to make him feel worse.

"I—I just wanted to tell you that I'm really sorry."

She rolled her eyes. "I forgave you once before. I gave you multiple warnings. I'm not as patient as Caitlin was. I don't have time for your stupid games." She looked him straight in the eye, acting the entire time. Her eyes angrily searched his. "Do you seriously expect me to forgive you again?"

"No," he said after a moment's pause, head down.

"That would make you even more stupid than I thought you were, Clark Kent! I'm not a cold hearted--! Whatever. I forgive you. As long as you promise to keep a certain distance, that is."

"Sure." He breathed a great sigh of relief.

"I'm a good actor, aren't I?"

"Huh?"

"For the past week, I've forgiven you. Caitlin talked to me when I went home… And we both agreed it would be fun to let you sweat. Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes. And you are a good actor… I thought you were really furious at me."

"No way. I'm too sweet for that!" She grinned. "And the 'lesson' question was from Caitlin. She said it should mean something to you… Anyway, now I've got to go. Lex Luthor called my house… Something about wanting to see me. And, no, I do not want you to come. I don't need to be protected, Clark."

He blushed and grinned sheepishly. "Well, then…" He was at a loss for words. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure. Now, I've got to go." She ran out of the school, and hopped into her mom's van. She had asked to borrow it for the day, so she could go straight to what everyone in town called "the Mansion" from school.

She drove to the large estate, and took a deep breath before stepping out of the jade green Nissan.

Once she walked into the mansion, there was a servant of some kind that led her into a room. "Miss Thompson," he announced in a clipped tone. Lex nodded, and the servant left.

"Hi, Mr. Luthor," she said, looking around the room. It was the same as before, she noticed.

"Call me Lex. My father is Mr. Luthor." He said the last with contempt. It was then when she made a mental note never to speak of his father, or call him Mr. Luthor ever again.

"Fine. Why did you want me to come here today?" She walked over to the grand piano where she had seen him playing that night, weeks before. She ran her fingers lightly over the keys.

"My corporation has a need for someone with creativity, someone with a spark."

"Why don't you ask someone with a real talent? I just sing a little, and write a little."

"I was at the talent show. I've read the Torch once or twice."

"So? I may have won first place, but that was lucky, and, besides, you're most likely to win with a slower piece. I've learned that, watching other talent shows."

"That may be, but you do have a talent with writing, if not in music."

"That may be," she parroted, "but what has my writing have to do with your 'corporation'?"

"I'm offering you a good job. It will look good on a resume, and pay well. Call it an internship."

"That didn't answer my question," she said, noting his evasive reply. "What would I be doing for you?"

"Putting your creativity to good use."

"How exactly would I go about doing that? I know you co-own the Talon, or whatever you wish to call it. Do you want for Lana to get some live entertainment?"

"That isn't my choice. Though, that is a good idea. Why don't you talk to her about it?"

"Because," she said, getting angry, "I do not want to sing in front of crowds. I am a writer, not a performer."

"Calm down. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Why should I? So you can give me some pacified job description? I don't think so. I saw you at the talent show, all right. Why don't you give up the 'I'm your friend' angle? When I finished my performance at the talent show, you looked at me as if I were some new computer you wanted to buy. It was cold, calculated."

"You say that I looked cold and calculating? Possibly because you were a job prospect. And the angle you're talking about is genuine. You're Clark's friend. Clark is a very close friend of mine."

"And my job description?"

"Not something most teenagers get, that's for sure. But, it seems to me that you're more than average. You have an extensive knowledge in music, which I admire intensely, being a bit of a musician myself. You have a talent, and the knowledge to back it, in two subjects."

"My musical knowledge is not extensive. It's just not as much as most people have. You probably have more, since you most likely went to some kind of prep school."

"Yes, I did. I learned music there. But I never joined the band, or the choir, or had more music classes than I had to. I didn't decide to learn as much music as I know now until later."

"Fine, then. I chose, at a somewhat early age, to learn music. I had no idea of my writing skills until I was almost ten years old. You may think that young still, but I'd been studying music since I was seven or younger. I played violin when I was nine. Flute at eleven, and I started learning a little piano at thirteen. I was in my first choir at eight or nine, went to another at fourteen, then again at fifteen and would have at sixteen, had I not moved again."

"That still is pretty amazing. I think—"

"I think I need to know what my job offer is."

"Of course. I'm in need of someone who will know the difference between Mozart and mozzarella cheese."

"Sounds alright… what would it entail?"

"Give a few tours to the rich guys wanting to see our showrooms. It sounds like a car lot, but it's just where we keep some integral information about the corporation for the big shots to see. We recently added some art pieces, and have gotten questions. You'll need to know a bit about the fine arts, and we'll have classical music playing, so that runs into not only the tolerance of it, which most people do not have, but also the knowledge in case there is a lull in the tour, and someone asks a question regarding the music."

"Remind me why you have to have a knowledge of fine arts to answer questions. I don't understand why you can't give the original people things to memorize."

"We did. It worked—for a time. Then a few people asked questions not on the memorized list. We lost a bit of our reputation. I told them I would find someone more qualified to show around a room filled with art like that."

"It sounds good. I'll have to get back to you on it, though."

"I understand."

"I'll talk to you again shortly, with my answer."


	12. Chapter 12:Youve Got the Right One, Babe

**Chapter 12: You've Got the Right One, Babe**

It had been almost another whole week since Michele had gotten the job offer from Lex Luthor. She was driving back now, remembering her conversation with her friends. She had told Caitlin online that night…

_Caitlin: sounds… kind of high-class. not what you'd expect for someone living in smallville_

_Michele: is lex luthor someone you'd expect in smallville?_

_Caitlin: well… not really. _

_Michele: see what i mean? but my question is should i take his offer? you said to be wary of him._

_Caitlin: well, what better way to learn what he's up to than to be right under his nose? just watch out and keep on your toes._

_Michele: what if he asks me about you? or clark?_

_Caitlin: you don't know anything. you told clark you're a good actor, make Lex believe you don't know a thing_

_Michele: alright. i'll talk to him next week. there are some more people i want to talk to about it._

_Cailtin: okay. talk to you some other time, then._

Then she remembered her conversation with Chloe.

"_It sounds okay. Besides, I think Lex is a much safer bet than Lionel. Still… I want you to be careful. I don't want a friend to be caught in the same situation I was in."_

"_Thanks. I'd heard about your experience, and I thought maybe it would be a good idea to talk to you."_

Just last night, she had talked to another friend.

"_Lex told me he offered you a job," Clark said._

"_Yes. I'm leaning toward accepting… What do you think?"_

"_Lex is great. I've never worked for him, but he offered financial support to my family, is a great friend to me, and I know he's not always the best judge of character, but he usually knows what he's doing when it comes to LexCorp._

"_You didn't answer. I think Lex's evasiveness rubbed off on you. Do you think I should accept?"_

"_Well… Yes, if we can still talk. I'd hate to lose another friend, but it would be worse to have you so near and not be able to talk."_

"_That's sweet. It shouldn't be too time-consuming. I promise I'll still try to help you out."_

"Here goes nothing," she murmured to herself. She had pulled into the massive driveway of the Mansion. As she walked in, another servant brought her to the same room. She was beginning to guess it was Lex's favorite.

"I've decided to accept your job offer, on some certain… boundaries."

"Such as?" Lex looked intrigued.

"For one, hours—I want time for school, homework, Torch articles, and private time."

"That can be arranged. Anything else?"

"Yes. I will not be subjected to blackmail. I realize you have not resorted to that, but I believe in taking precautions." She looked him straight in the eye. "I want the ability to quit at any given time, if I have a good reason. If I leave, saying I quit because of a bad customer, it is not to be taken seriously. Everything must be in writing. I think the same should apply to firing, should it happen."

"That seems fair. If you like, I can have your employment written on record."

"Fine. Keep it on file. I have no need for it, but I would appreciate the record of it."

"Then, I suppose we'll have a meeting to sort out hours at another time. Speak with Chloe to see about workable times around the Torch."

"Alright. I'll be back within a week." She walked out, finally learning her way from the room to the door.

That Saturday, Clark called to ask if she could come over. It was almost one o'clock, so she said she'd be right over.

"Is everything okay, Clark?" she asked, stepping up the stairs that led to the loft.

"Sort of," came his answer. He seemed to be a little upset.

"Come off it. You're not very convincing when you can't even say 'sort of' in offhand way."

"Fine. I've been thinking a lot lately…"

"About what?"

"About rejection." He kept staring out the window, refusing to look at her.

"And? Rejection is a part of life."

"And obviously a major part of mine. I keep falling for girls who either aren't available or aren't interested!" He put an emphasis on the last part, and that struck a small guilty chord.

"Clark…" she began in a calming tone, "slow down and think. Sure Caitlin and I weren't interested—because we both know you aren't the one for us… and that there is a girl out there for you. Besides, Chloe and you dated for awhile. No one can help you blowing it with Lana all the time," she added jokingly.

"Yeah, sure, Chloe and I were together before I blew that, too. And if I do get a girl who's interested and available, she's either certifiably crazy, or I blow it by going off to save someone else."

"You can't help the cuckoos in the world, and you can't help that you were born to help others."

"No. But I can't seem to stop falling for all the wrong girls." He looked at her briefly before returning to his view of the soft blue sky, littered with fluffy clouds close enough to touch.

"Look, it's just that you haven't met the right girl yet. I used to fall for the wrong guys all the time—or think I was—believe me. And then, I woke up to a bright light of reality. Almost every person in the world is the wrong guy or girl, because there's only one person for you. So, yeah. You'll end up falling for a lot of wrong people before you find the right one. Before you read too much into my words, I'm not saying we're right for each other. Before she left Smallville, Caitlin told me you have a big meeting coming up. I think that meeting is your destined 'one'. So, just wait, okay? That's all we really can do." She looked at him. He didn't move.

She left down the stairs quietly, looking back every now and then.

_She's right,_ he thought. _Maybe there is someone out there for me, that would be okay with me saving lives and everything._

**A/N: This one seems so short to me… But the last few haven't been, in my opinion. We're winding down! Keep with me for these last three, before we say goodbye to Caitlin and Michele one last time.**


	13. Chapter 13: Memories

**Chapter 13: Memories**

One Monday morning, about 10:30, Michele was sitting in her yard, leaning against a tree in the bright May sun. Winter had faded so fast, spring had just crept up on her. And now it was exploding in the bright colors she knew so well, but each year it seemed she had forgotten them in the dull browns and stark whites of the winter. "Happy Memorial Day," she murmured, to no one but the open air as her pen flew across an open notepad. The creative energies that went into writing poetry always seemed brightest and strongest in those empty moments like these, and Michele had always tried to take advantage of them whenever they showed up. The pencil gripped tightly in her hand was her best friend in these moments, printing her words so they'd last long after her mind had forgotten them. And she wrote:

"Memories fade

But the things that made them memories

Are hard to erase.

For now

I remember you

And you remember me

And we both remember

Who we want to be.

We remember our friends,

Thinking they'll be there,

To the very end.

Memories fade

But the things that made them memories

Are hard to erase.

I know better,

I know we'll grow apart,

I know we'll say goodbye.

I know we'll forget

Who we were today,

And who we thought

We would be tomorrow.

But the hint of smile,

The nature of someone

Close to you, always,

Will leave the impression, forever.

We'll never truly forget

Who we were,

Who they were to us,

Who we wanted to be,

Who we will be,

As long as

In the back of the mind,

We never truly forget

What we promised we'd

Forever remember,

For the rest of our lives.

Because memories fade,

But the things that made them memories

Are hard to erase."

At the top, she wrote "Memories" and underlined it with a quick slash of her pencil. With an appraising eye, she reviewed her own work, making sure it was at its peak. After finding no weak wordings or spelling mistakes, she smiled and wrote the date in the top right corner.

"Hey," Clark's voice came from behind her, startling Michele. She quickly smoothed the look off of her face and smiled up at her friend as he approached. "What are you writing?"

Taking a deep breath, Michele suddenly felt the rush of anticipation that showed up before showing off a piece of artistic work. "It's a poem," she eventually drew out. "One that I just finished, too." Remaining sitting, she stretched to hand the notepad up to him. "Here, you can read it."

He accepted and his eyes darted across the lines quickly. "Not very cryptic."

Michele tilted her head slightly to stare up at him. "No, you're right, it's not. But it is true. It's sort of like a Walt Whitman style, Clark. He was a great poet and always prided himself on being straightforward to the point."

"Really?" Clark asked. "A great poet who was always straightforward? Seems a bit too good to be true."

She had to smile at the truth behind his words. "It does. But poets don't always have to be cryptic. Being discreet and subtle has its uses, but sometimes bold is the best way to go. Word choice comes into play there, so it can be interpreted in different ways." Suddenly, an example presented itself to her. "Did you ever read any of Caitlin's poems?"

The frown that creased Clark's face was about as deep as the Grand Canyon. "Caitlin writes poems?"

"Yes, she does. I can't believe you never knew that."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "I can't believe you did and I didn't."

"Artists can be very self-conscious," Michele admitted. "Even someone like Caitlin. Sharing their work of any kind is difficult. So I can believe it."

"Anyway, your point was?"

"Right." Staring down at the ground, Michele tried to recall the words Caitlin had written on the torn piece of paper… "Once, after I read one of her simple poems and asked why it was like that, she told me, 'When subtlety can't be achieved, fall back on something that'll make the reader think their brains out'."

A soft, melancholy smile touched Clark's face. "That sounds just like Caitlin." He apparently drifted off for a moment, but abruptly snapped back to himself. "Well, were you trying to 'make the writer think his brains out' here?"

"You can answer that yourself. Did you think your brains out interpreting it, Mr. Genius?"

Clark graciously chose to ignore the little jibe of a nickname. "I guess I did."

Staring up at him, Michele nodded slowly. "And did you agree with what you think I was saying?"

"Yes," he answered slowly. "Memories fade with time as all things do, but there's always a bit of something hanging around in there."

"Well said."

Silence hung between them for a moment, and Michele spent the soft, quiet moments staring out at nothing in particular, simply remembering. She remembered meeting her friends that seemingly fateful journalism convention, remembered finding out about Caitlin and Clark's powers, remembered the day she and Caitlin said goodbye, remembered actually talking to Clark for the first time, and she thought about how far from home, how truly alone, she would feel should she ever have to say goodbye to either of them, for good.

Clark's quiet voice broke the silence. "I hope I never forget you or Caitlin."

When Michele looked up, she saw a sad, almost pained look on her friend's face that she hated to encourage. "You will," she said though. "It's inevitable. Time is an unstoppable force that keeps moving and erasing memories. We'll both change so much in future years. We could look back then and just see how right I was." Much as I wish it was otherwise, she added silently. We always want to hold on to the good, simple times of life, but we can't. She shrugged, fighting to not think about what really was inevitable—the possibility she would have to say goodbye to them.

"I guess," he replied, toeing the dirt. "I can't imagine forgetting Caitlin. She played such a big part in things recently… I can't imagine forgetting you either. And I get the feeling you're going to stick around."

"Of course I am!" she exclaimed, swatting at him with a hand. "I made a promise to Caitlin, you know, and… well, I think you're a great friend, Clark."

"Thanks. _I think_," he said, handing back her notebook.

She took it and laid it in her lap, flipping the cover to the front again. "If you never forget one thing, I want you to remember that no matter how many mistakes you make, how many things happen to you, me, Caitlin… friends remain friends in the hearts of their friends eternally."

Clark looked utterly confused, and Michele couldn't resist sarcastically labeling him "Mr. Genius" in her head again.

Smiling, she explained. "I know it sounds messed up, but it's telling you that you will never forget or lose any of us as friends, as long as you keep us in your heart."


	14. Chapter 14: Happy Birthday!

**Chapter 14: Happy Birthday**

"Are you sure today's the day she told you?" Clark's voice sounded anxious and almost unsure to the person he was calling on the phone—hundreds of miles away.

"Yes, I'm sure!" Caitlin's voice was happy and excited. "And no, I don't want to be supersonic-ed up there. I don't want her to know I told you, remember? If she sees me, she'll know for sure."

"Fine. And I asked Lana earlier. We're having the party at the Talon, and Chloe's even taken the day off."

"Wow," Caitlin said. She smiled at how anxious his voice was.

"Look, I'm sorry, Caitlin, but…"

"There's a lot to get ready, I know." He heard the smile in her voice again. "Go on and help Lana get the stuff ready. Or help Chloe or whoever needs it. Or you could distract Michele from the Talon."

"Right. Talk to you tomorrow. I'll tell you all about the party, I promise."

"You'd better! Bye, Smallville." She put the phone into its cradle.

He walked outside and looked at the blue sky. May… what a beautiful month. It was almost June now… May 26, 2004.

"Mom! I told you. I don't want another piece of cake! I know, I know. Birthday means cake, but I've had two more already! No more!" Michele shut the door behind her to go… somewhere. She didn't care where. Just somewhere no one knew about her birthday. She hated all that… The hype of the birthday girl junk.

"Oh, hey, Clark!" She noticed him standing at end of the path.

"Why so eager to get out?"

"Um." She struggled to think of a cover-up white lie. "You know family. Sometimes it's just too much."

"Sure." He usually would have taken that excuse but… today was special. "What do you say I show you something special?"

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just never showed you this."

When she walked in, she gasped in surprise. "What is this?"

"I think it was left for me. Actually, I'm pretty sure of it. Do you see all the symbols? They're all for me. Look at the S-shaped one over there, with the dots. That's a Kryptonian symbol."

"Wow." She walked up and touched a symbol close to her. "This is amazing, Clark. You found this?"

"Yeah. They're ancient Indian caves."

"These are amazing! I've always loved historical stuff… I always read about Anastasia, Queen Elizabeth I, Marie Antoinette… I loved it, and still do. I… I can't believe I'm actually standing in a real Indian cave."

"Believe it." They stayed for hours, talking about all the different symbols and things. A few times, Clark looked at his watch. One of these times, he told her, "We have to go now."

"Where?"

"It's a surprise! I promised I wouldn't tell you."

When they got to the Talon, Michele said, "I thought you said Lana closed for the day." She was suspicious.

"She did. She just told me to bring you over later, so we could hang out—all four of us."

"Oh. That's… cool." She was getting suspicious fast. Why choose today for a hang out day? But how could they know about her birthday? _I'm probably just a little paranoid._

When they walked in, she saw the decorations, the simple yet gorgeous cake, and her name written in icing. _Okay. Even if I am paranoid, this looks suspiciously like a party. In fact, it looks a lot like a _birthday _party._

"Clark."

He turned around to receive a death glare. _Yikes,_ he thought. "Yes, Michele?"

"What is today?"

"May something."

"And why are such colorful decorations at the Talon today?"

"Because Lana wanted it to be… uh, pretty?"

"And who told you it was my birthday?"

"The school system?"

She waked up to him. She wasn't tall, she knew that, but she was very determined. That determination made Clark feel very vulnerable.

"Are you sure about that? Because I don't think you walked up to the school and asked for my birthday."

"Uh. Lana found out for us."

"How Freudian. Switching the blame to another party." She smiled. "How ironic to use that word… party. By the way, Lana, could I use your computer?"

"Sure," the puzzled friend said, leading her to it.

"Thanks." As Michele connected it to the Internet, she noticed that Lana had the same messenger service as she did. She signed in under her own name and saw, as she had known, that Caitlin was online.

She typed:

Hello Caitlin.

hey michele!

Would you like to explain yourself?

what do you mean?

Or rather explain for CLARK?

oh. that. um. it kinda slipped. i thought that you had told him. but obviously you didn't!

Uh, uh, Caitlin. I told you that I didn't want any parties, so I hadn't told anyone else!

oh. right. sorry! i forgot!

Yeah right. Look, I have a _party_ to attend now. death glare I'm gonna kill you later, kay?

Whenever she got angry, she typed as if she was writing an article—short, precise, and capitalized. She closed the dialog box and disconnected the computer's Internet connection, as Lana had it before she had used it.

She turned around and looked at Clark. "Talked to Caitlin lately?"

"Actually, we had an interesting conversation this morning."

"About today being my birthday."

"Look, how was I supposed to know you didn't want a birthday party with your friends?"

"If I did, don't you think I would have told you myself when it was?"

"I guess."

"Clark, I swear, if that cake didn't look so good, I'd shove it in your face!" She began laughing. For so many years, she'd downplayed her birthday. Just now she realized – or remembered – why. She used to tell everyone her birthday, and never get a present, or a single "Happy Birthday, Michele!" from anyone out of her family. She hadn't had a party since she was nine or ten. Not even from her family – just a cake and presents there, until age thirteen, when she got money and a few gifts.

"I'm sorry, guys. I've been acting silly and I just now realized it. So, what do you say we eat?"

Clark had never seen such a fast change in moods before. But he had a feeling there'd be someone in the future who would make sure he got used to them.


	15. Chapter 15: Last Day

**Chapter 15: One Last Day**

"You're in," Chloe was saying to her.

"In what?" Michele was confused. It was the very last day of school, she was trashing her notebooks, and cleaning out her locker. She couldn't be happier.

"You're coming with me to the Daily Planet this summer. Sure, it means fetching a lot of coffee, but…"

"Are you kidding? I've got an internship doing what I've been doing all year – getting someone coffee?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"That's great! I can't wait. I'm sure sugar and cream isn't all I'll be learning about, right?" Michele grinned. She was so excited about this internship!

"Of course." She smiled. "And, of course, it's a free summer away from Smallville."

Something about what Chloe said struck her. "Smallville," she murmured.

"Yeah, you know, tiny town, you've been living here for a few months now?"

However, Michele's mind was not on the town, but the guy who had that for his nickname – Clark.

"Hey, Michele."

Speak of the devil. "Hey, Clark."

Chloe looked at them, still energized from the news of their summer internship. She loved having a friend like Michele – talented, sweet, always bubbly, and always thinking. "Michele and I are going to Metropolis this summer!"

"What?" Clark's eyebrows shot up, confused as Michele had been.

"I got Michele in with me for that internship at the Daily Planet." She noticed how shocked and almost hurt he looked. "Sorry, Clark, but I don't think they have room for menu writers. Besides, you couldn't have expected us both to stick around here all summer. She's got talented, surely you've noticed these past few months."

"Yeah, I noticed." He winced inwardly. Then got hurt for noticing a few other things.

"Clark, I'll be back after summer. You can't get rid of me that easily. Besides, when we return, we'll be seniors! That has to make you so happy. I know it does me." Michele was really geared up for this summer and the school year following. "Prom, graduation, a car for me… I have gas money, thanks to my… Oh. My… job." She suddenly remembered her job for Lex.

"I'm sure Lex will think an internship is more important. Besides, maybe Clark could take over it while we're gone."

Michele raised her eyebrows. "I highly doubt it. The job is based purely on the aesthetics of the art forms Lex has lying around."

"Good point," Chloe answered.

Clark had invited her over for dinner at his house again, in celebration of the last day of school. Now it was also celebrating her summer internship.

Martha asked, "So, Michele, what are you planning on doing for the summer?"

"Chloe actually got me a surprise birthday present – a couple of days late. She got me in for the Daily Planet internship."

Johnathon looked at her. "You planning on working there some day?"

"Yes. I love writing, and the Planet is so well-known. Besides, Chloe's going there, and I'm sure I know a few others who will."

"Like who?"

"I don't know, but I have a feeling there's a reporter under some of these Smallville citizens."

After dinner, Clark drove her over to Lex's again. It seemed that they were repeating the night she had first met his parents and Lex.

"Lex?" This time Michele was the one to say the bald billionaire's name.

"Yes?"

"I've come to explain something."

"What would that be? Would you like different hours, since school's out?"

"You could say that. I have to quit."

"Why?" His curiosity was piqued.

"I received an internship at the Daily Planet with my friend Chloe Sullivan."

"Oh, I see. Will you want it back when you return?"

"Yes. I have to pay for gas money." She laughed. "I'm getting a car for a present this summer. My parents are paying." She remembered his Porsche and probably many other expensive cars. "Not as expensive as yours, though. If we were that rich, I wouldn't need gas money."

"Let me know when you start searching. I'll be glad to help."

"All right. I'm sorry for having to quit, but I think my future is at the Planet."

"I've read some of your work, and I have to agree." He nodded. "Good luck."

She turned to leave, just as he said to her, "And, please, if you ever need to talk to me, I've been told I'm a good listener."

She tensed at this, guessing he meant Clark and Caitlin. "I will if I ever feel the need. I have so many ears at the ready; I doubt I'll run out."

As she left Smallville, she felt sad, even though she was coming back in August.

"Goodbye for now, Smallville." Either the Kansas dust was getting in her eye, or she was feeling tears well up. "I'll be back in August to make sure you don't become any more backwards." She spoke to the sky, and she felt the empty air was alive.


End file.
